Bundle up, the cold is coming on. A slice of me welcomes the sweaters, the fireplace, the constant opportunity for a good hot tea. I like painting in my 3rd floor study when snowflakes fly outside. I’m protected from the chill and I look at the bundled people walking below, and sometimes it feels like a dream. I think about how we come and go as people, how we live and die, how my life feels so vibrant – and then it will be gone. Just like every other one, walking below. Mostly, as of late, this thought doesn’t scare me so much as I’m fascinated by the poignancy of my thoughts, juxtaposed by the fleeting moments and impermanence of everything. I see the chaos in our political system, the climate refugees around the world, the imbalance of money and power… and I wonder how the earth will right itself, despite – and without regard to the human life that depletes it, and so fully relies on it. I inhale this moment, and I’m grateful for the oddity of peace that I feel in my heart while chaos ensues in so many places around me. I know this moment is temporary and so am I. I know this moment will shift and soon I’ll be pulled to action, no longer a passive witness to the passing of time. This peace will pass, and so will I. And I guess, that’s all ok.