through the mire

I was trying to show you the rain drops falling on the water. And on the ice. And on the snow. Making slop. A mire.

That’s what this time of year is for, I tell you. It’s like those epic struggle parts of the children’s book where the hero/heroine has to traverse lousy conditions and hardship to gain… yes, STRENGTH, and fortitude to become a better person. A winner at the end.

But right now, the mire. The alone time. The short days/dark. The tunnel of trials. Right?

Well, that’s if you only look outside. That’s if the weather and the surroundings are everything. That’s if you don’t have some nice wet bright colors happening inside. Indoors.

And it’s only color at this point. Just color. And yet look at the lift it offers.

Art. Shall I call it: “my sword”? And perhaps, once complete, a sword for others.

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