January Full Moon

In January
it's so nice
while slipping
on the sliding ice

to sip hot chicken soup with rice.
Sipping once
Sipping twice

sipping chicken soup with rice.

                      Maurice Sendak

No ice, not even rain, but plenty of soup: cream of broccoli, chickpea and kale, sweet and sour cabbage. Last summer we had no summer, now we have winter without winter. Hard to say what season it is—not warm, not gloomy, just cool, gorgeous, clear weather, chilly at night. Growing anxiety about no rain—such a contrast to last year. Started to water a bit, but soon may have to get serious about it.

I enjoyed the holiday socializing , now enjoying January solitude.  A slow time, working solidly in the studio.  Photographed the last series on mulberry paper—somehow surprised at how well they all came out.  Have three different composition “themes” going--focusing on one for awhile, then returning to another.

Winter Solstice

Among several tribes on the northern plains, the passage of time from one summer to the next was marked by noting a single memorable event. The sequence of such memories, recorded pictographically on a buffalo robe or spoken aloud, was called a winter count. Several winter counts might be in progress at any one time in the same tribe, each differing according to the personality of its keeper.                                                                                                                         Barry Lopez

Cold nights, beautiful clear days.  No rain -- the third-driest December on record.  The lemon and tomato trees are at their peak.

What would I choose for my winter count?  A number of events come to mind.  The death of a good friend stands out.  Other deaths and impending mortality of friends and family have colored this year.  And yet, not a sad year--just a reminder of the transitory nature of our existence.  A call to appreciate the beauty and camaraderie while it lasts.  I often have a vision of my friend up in the sky, smiling and waving to me from the beyond.

The day of solstice feels like a pause, a moment of stillness in the ongoing turning of the year.