I enjoy each of the seasonal cycles. Living in New England, winters can be dramatic. Hunkered down under an afghan with a cup of tea, I knit scarves and sweaters and finish up the needlepoint projects I started before Christmas. Winter is my best stitching time, expansive in both duration and projects.
I can't remember a time when I didn't stitch. Well, maybe I can - Mom says I all but flunked out of home ec in high school with my misshapen dirndl skirt. Setting in a zipper was definitely not my forte at the time. I got better over time as my interest grew. I learned to sew better, knit and crochet. Needlework became my passion when I started a family.
All thru this, I painted and drew. Not with any regularity, but with wonderment that my hand and mind could work together to create something on paper and canvas.
My paints live inside the house for the winter and spring fills me with anticipation. The closer it gets, the closer I get to my own seasonal change. We had a weekend of near 70 degree weather two weeks ago and I was out in the studio like a flash, cleaning around the stored deck furniture and scooting early ladybugs out the door. I carried the paints out of the house and put them back in their home on the drawing table. I played with watercolors for an hour or two...ahhhh.