So I wake to a breath of snow — not a covering, by any means. This, of course, gives me a good reason to hide inside and write. Write. About what? About the snow, of course.
My morning tea is cold and the room is cold. Hot tea here is possible, but I must move elsewhere, even if it is just up the street.
Playing: Atlas Eclipticalis & Winter Music: Part II from the album “Cage: Atlas Elipticalis & Winter Music and 103” by David Tudor & The Orchestra of the S.E.M. Ensemble