all was white and quiet when i woke this morning. snow. after peering out the blinds toward the chilly saint joseph river, i padded my way to the kitchen and turned the water on for coffee. making my own these days: adventures with the french press. yesterday i ground the beans too fine and tasted the resulting bitterness. today i allowed for a little more chunk and texture.
i have time. time for experimenting. time for imperfection. i’m catching my breath. the room isn’t spinning as fast anymore. i can make out shapes. i can pick out shadows and light and colors.