expectations

somedays I don't know what I'm doing. I bury my head to ignore the letters I don't want to see, escape by watching others' lives and covering myself in immediates. immediate needs, immediate cuddles, what shall we eat, let's walk to the park. Beautiful days with birds immediately seen in leafless trees. Eyes always drawn skyward - a helicopter, a flock of birds, the moon now out before we head home from the park, little dark eyes intently focusing on new sights. These days are bittersweet, knowing soon complete darkness will follow from end of days, sunshine fleeting glancing off banks of snow. Snowsuits, car trips to grocery stores, eyes downwards keeping wind and snow at bay.

I don't really know if I like winter. Certainly I expect it and enjoy some of the changes brought. Craving heavy, satisfying fare to weigh down my insides as the rest is already weighted. It brings knits and classic Christmas mixes heavy on Ella, Nat and Frank. Pinot Grigios and sad novels. I was reading Sylvia Plath's journals recently feeling hidden, covert reading into the recesses of other minds, a mind winding giddy excitement to devastating negativity. A mind analyzing and working through self in words. Strange to see another's life in journals. Who would read mine? Who would I want reading mine? I am proud of my life, background and experiences. I wouldn't want anyone else's life. But someone always gets hurt hearing one-sided truths.

Do I really dislike winter living in Winnipeg? I like the shows and plays and gatherings that go on in the darkness to lure us from our cozy nests. I like hot chocolate, sleigh rides, snowmen, long dark evenings curled up in silence reading hours from heavy books. I'm not sure if I actually like winter though. So many preparations, warming cars scraping windows, heavy minutes getting dressed and layered for prairie gusts, tingling toes with never enough warmth in the feet... Fragile frozen glasses fogged at every entrance. Eyes leaking tears quickly frozen on rosy cheeks. Definite mixed feelings.

I have no motivation lately to finish projects. I am freaking out about not being ready in time for my show next month but don't want to sit and practice. Procrastination leads me to keyboards and easy distractions... My knitted sock sits half finished waiting for me to attempt turning the heel. Papers piled set to the side. Lately no one asks what I am doing or if they do I feel they don't actually have any interest in the answer. I am surrounded by people but feeling lonely.