I’m thrilled with what I’ve gotten out of joining She Writes. Though I have to be careful not to waste too much time reading, I’m learning enough to keep me busy for quite awhile.
Nelson’s skies are a blank slate of white/grey, and with little snow on the ground, the brown landscape does little to inspire. I wonder if it is possible to find beauty in the brown/grey/white backdrop?
I’m reminded of David Hockney now. I read that he lived in Los Angeles because of the light there. I can understand that. I am trying to conjure a memory of that light right now. The contrasts, the sharp lines. In Nelson, lines are blurred and the light not as harsh and brilliant.
I understand that David Hockney has moved back to his hometown, I believe in the north of England. I want to write that, perhaps like Hockney, I will be able to make peace with this dreariness and work. Hmmm. First, I’m not Hockney. Second, I can’t write well enough this morning to make that not sound contrived and lame.
Can I blame it on the weather?
