Bitter cold set in. By afternoon, I couldn’t warm up. I reached in the cupboard for strong black tea, the blend usually reserved for chai. As the water warmed on the stove, I noticed the mail truck drive by. I slipped on my jacket and boots and walked across the street to the mailbox. My lungs seized from the chill, not unlike they did back home. The cat circled around the house and followed me back. Inside for tea. Some days were filled with longing. Lake Michigan in the winter, covered in snow and ice. A drive to the Chicago Art Institute just because. Our old black kettle on top of the wood burning stove.
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.