I am sitting here trying to find the words for the CD booklet and they frustratingly elude me. I have at one time too much to say and not enough. How can that be? All feels slow these days, all held in icy stasis. The cold sits in my bones, has for weeks now. I feel like I cannot warm my feet and I sit and stare out the window, awestruck by the crystalline beauty of winter. It has been years since we have had such a white Christmas. My voice feels rusty, out of sorts, even though it hasn't been that long since I sang. The frenzy of the season has left me with little time to practice and to write. And that is what I long to do, write under the soft gaze of winter. Ideas falling so gently within my mind that desire notes to complete them. Often I feel like I don't do enough, that I haven't done enough, that I am caught too often in a still moment, when I could be writing or playing. The night falls so soon, the sun barely rising to greet the day before it sighs back into the Western horizon, burnt into the sky for so little time. So little time is what I feel, when there is so much I desire to do and the hours run by so quickly while I float within their running tidal currents. Yes, that is what I feel like, as if I am floating through my days. Winter brings such thoughts. And still the CD booklet needs to be finished and the writing must continue...so why am I writing here? ~laugh~

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