We find ourselves in February having, at least in my case, crawled through through the wretched fug of January only to discover that this new month is, very much, more of the same. At least today the sun is out in South London. I wonder whether the spectre of global climate change has altered the way I understand the seasons. Or is it just the desperation of someone trying to outrun S.A.D? When I was young I understood December/January/February as winter (in this hemisphere at least). Yet as an adult I am furious everytime February rolls around and Winter is still dragging on. Is it the memory of a few recent (scientifically horrifying) heatwaves in the early months of the year? Or has my desperation for daylight erased my basic seasonal clock? Either way I am filling our flat with supermarket tulips and daffodils and hoping to create a spring micro-climate in SE17.
Love the frames! (And art inside!)
I always decide January is going to be a write-off, and then I can go about everything with no pressure and anything I do is a win.
Loved to read about just DOING (even if on autopilot) for January... An excellent approach and antidote to marking type chores. Thank you!