I am exhausted. I sleep a lot now. I could easily spend the entire day in bed. I nap several times a day. Strange scenes visit me in my dreams. Dantean, almost, yet filled with peace. Like a grotesque on sedatives. No drama, even though the themes are the darkest.
When I wake up, I don’t remember the day. Usually, I don’t know the time either. Recently, half-conscious, I rushed to the kitchen to check the clock on the stove. I was certain I had overslept and failed to pick up the children from school. Never mind that it’s winter break.
Despite the fatigue, I paint every day. I try not to neglect my household chores beyond measure. The house keeps me grounded. Without my family, I would probably sleep through the entire month.
The reserve of solar energy I gathered in the summer is slowly running out. The snow doesn’t bother me, but I feel the depletion in my bones. An emptiness. Interestingly, winter doesn’t feel long, but my body demands care.
Thus, magic happens in the shadows, but everything is fueled by the sun.
Meditations on a Clove Branch , 50x70cm, oil on board, 2026