I was reading Tales from Ovid last night and this need to paint moon trees and stars overtook me. I found myself painting a tree under moon and felt that it was a good expression of my inner feelings–perhaps mirrored in the deep winter that sits over the Manitoba earth right now. There is no sense of life anywhere outside as everything is in a deep winter freeze. It occurred to me that my introspective feelings were right on time for the Celtic festival that marks the turning season, Imbloc–though I am not so sure if “festival” is the right word for such an internal celebration. You can read a bit about it here if you are unfamiliar with Imbolc.
Here is to the coming spring. I await her with great anticipation.