In response to the rain, and in response to the overall fidgety feelings I feel while I work my way through the engineering of my new studio space. I have this deep longing to get on with everything, but I know its a process and time will need to be taken.

So you get sucked into grey-ness. Literally in the sense that the sky has turned from enticing blues and welcoming greens, to cool greys, and drooping wet greens. As though winter, all but asleep, spits out one final cough before rolling over and shutting off the light.

Amid weather like that, with no space to stretch out and work, things feel mostly consumed.

Ash turns in and feeds on itself, all while growing like rampant cells, arteries, bureaucracies and lies.