The Art Of Changing Weather

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Cold rain falls gently across the tin roof, dripping along its edges toward the earth. “O Sole Mio” is streaming from some distant server through the speakers in the living room as steam rises from a fresh brewed hand-made cup of green tea. There is a contrast between the sunny lyrics and this cloudy day; maybe that is my way of finding balance.

I’ve just finished watching the third episode of the second season of Mozart in the Jungle and sat down to write after reloading the wood stove. To think but a few weeks ago I was questioning the labor involved in keeping a fire going on cold days and nights…I truly was “Being Foolish.” For it is in moments like these that I am reminded how wonderful life can be regardless of how at times it can be presented.

Bipolar disorder can leave one cherishing moments like these that much more. Moments like these, when there is balance, moments like these when there aren’t two warring parties in my head fighting with some manic forte or depressive silence for control. There are moments when my world is just as it should be, full of many dynamics and contrasts; failing to fall for one extreme.

The arts don’t happen without expressive variation nor do they grow without practice and care. As the process of finalizing The Journey of Samson Pyne for publication begins, what was rain has now changed to snow, the music that is streaming from that distant server has changed to another genre, and my cup of tea is in need of a refill. Always attempt to put a little more care into each expression you convey in life so that your form of art, whatever it may be will grow, regardless of the changing weather.