I find January an introspective month. Maybe it's the dark and the cold, the mounting winter-fatigue (snow's magic starts to slip away soon after Christmas, it always seems), all the time spent indoors and calculating shortest distances, weighing up every detour. But January forces patience even when the desire for Spring is pounding in my chest.
And I like its slowness too as it gives me space and time to dig deep. I've been eating more carefully and writing down words, reading words too. And checking some chores off the list, but all in a dreamy, muted sort of mindset. There seems endless time to fall into a slow and methodical trance, but also to meander and return, allowing myself distractions on bookshelves, in images and certain songs that I play over and over. And sleep that sinks deeper and warmer and fuller than other, less patient months.
Art by Brooks Salzwedel | Art by Vida Simon | Excerpt from Bark Xylem by Richard Skelton from Corbel Stone Press | Francesca Woodman book | A List of Probable Fauna by Richard Skelton from Corbel Stone Press | Mats Gustafson book | Art by Vida Simon