We are in the midst of a deep chill, weather-wise and mental-wise, and I've been trying to break apart my rather depressing Christmas feelings and struggling with not freezing to death in a overly drafty apartment and it's rattly radiators. Everything about family stuff is off, of course, is a pale shadow of itself, to the point where I kinda understand the folks who take trips to far off places over holidays just to avoid another one. Nothing can fix this, I'm not even sure if I can articulate it to even think about fixing it. There were presents--New Orleans coffee and yummy bath accroutrements. Art supplies and towels and super soft leopard throw blankets I am now living under. But it's still wrong somehow without my mother there.
Since I've been back in the city, I am happier, but battling the sub zero temps with the aid of bed snuggling beneath needy cats and a tiny space heater. But I am cooking, with all this time off work--soups and breakfast burritos and parma rosa. I am drinking tea, eating chocolate, making plans, and re-reading amazing 2017 dgp titles, and some of the first 2018 offerings. Bingewatching a bit of of AHS on the screen while I work. Tomorrow, I will be heading to the studio for at least a few hours to get in at least a bit of work on these precious days away from the library.
I still hope to get some more transcribing from UNUSUAL CREATURES done, and maybe a bit of a new project down on paper. I would like to go into 2018 with a plan and a clear head and am working to make that happen, but it's hard, and every single digit day makes it harder somehow, but it looks like we're stuck at least for another week.