Each year, there is that wonderful feeling of renewal, of fresh start, of returning energy and optimism that arrives with the Spring.
This year, even though we had a relatively mild Winter here in Munich, I'm almost giddily happy that Spring is making its appearance. Perhaps it's like this every year, only I forget. That's one of the wonderful things about cycles, you get caught in them and swept away with their relentless motion.
The Oleander bush that we kept in the main hallway over the winter is beginning to bud.
From my window, I see green, as well as tiny things appearing, growing, changing each day.
I, too, have been emerging from a hibernation of sort. A long one. One I wasn't entirely aware of being in. Another type of cycle.
The writing has been flowing like it hasn't done in ages. Not being a morning person, there is something about there being light through the curtains when I wake up that makes it so much easier to get up and get to work. My red binder has been filling up with pages that I print out as I write and rewrite, and rewrite, and rewrite...
The painting has also taken a new direction, as I alluded to a couple of posts back. This is the third of a series I'm working on. I'm getting away from trying to consciously capture various aspects of nature, and am letting myself go back to an earlier, more intuitive approach.
And, yesterday these arrived in the mail.
I just couldn't keep slogging through my Sir. Richard Burton translation of The Arabian Nights. This translation has been done by Malcolm C. Lyons and Ursula Lyons. My backlog pile of books to read is getting precariously high.
With each passing season, I realize that there are fewer and fewer books I'll have the opportunity to read.
Must get to it!