I feel the change in the weather, the mornings are darker, springing from the warmth of my bed is harder, but I love the cool weather. I love the sadness of fall and winter, even the really dark parts of it, the joy of summer somehow always feels unattainable to me, there’s a lot of pressure to fill yourself up during the hot months. In the dark I am far above the norm, though, I thrive. My paper skin enjoys a break from the heat trapping long sleeves I live in year round, cosy instead of oven like. A snowy night brings about the most beautiful silence partnered with the strangest light, and then later a neighborhood full of people complaining about the exact same thing. A mutual enemy for a moment, and an excuse to bring out our inner curmudgeon without judgement. I even enjoy trying to balance the right amount of layers for the day so I can stay warm in the morning but not have to carry too much later on in the day. Halloween brings in my weird dream of being anyone and therefore feeds into the desire to live a personal and public life. I suppose I recharge in the slowdown, find inspiration in the complications of an icy morning.