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Last night I dreamt of the first snow.

Last night I dreamt of the first snow. It was early morning and I had just emerged from sleep. I descended to the first floor of my apartment and was overcome by the dim, pale, blue light. Outside was like a blizzard, though it was only putting down a heavy dusting. But in the early morning light filtered through the snowfall, I was completely taken by the beauty. I made my coffee and opened my curtains. The blizzard cleared and the brilliant winter sun shone immutably, spilling perfect light into my living room from a paragon sky. I stepped out my back door and smelled the fresh winter air. I felt the snow beneath my toes. I woke up.

Dreaming of Paris and more paint

I haven’t painted in a couple of months. Finally, this weekend, I picked up a brush again. I felt visually creative again.

A Dream of Paris