What a winter. If I could choose I would hibernate like a bear. I'm dreaming of my spring flowers and looking through magazines and catalogs. The painting is one I did after finding a type of flower I've never grown or even painted before. I long for the mornings I can sit out on my back porch and sip coffee. I even promise not to yell at the squirrels. Oh spring where are you? But I don't recall any better springs than the ones after long hard winters. Oh the metaphors... So for now I try not to let the longing kill the present moment.
