Spring of Deception
Dear Friends,
On Presidents Day, I saw six pink blossoming trees while walking to my daughter’s music class. Later, outside Target, I stopped to admire the Japanese magnolias, budding and ready to bloom. The patch of daffodils in my neighbor’s yard is blooming, but weakly, the blossoms hunching, as if they, too, are hesitant about the timing. The crocuses down the street seem more confident, opening their mouths low to the ground.
What does a warm winter matter, if we don’t have to suffer? What does it matter, other than the end of the world? On the smallest plane, the weather’s just not what I was expecting. This year I planned my 100 day (ahem, 27 day) project all around the theme of enduring winter. I named the project “27 Days in Winter” and set out taking one photograph a day from now until spring to try to mindfully capture the hardest season.
And today, the high is supposed to be 78.
You’ve probably seen the old Facebook meme that lists the “real” seasons: Winter, Fool’s Spring, Second Winter, Spring of Deception, Third Winter, The Pollening, and so on. So there is some chance that this warm February is a mere Spring of Deception, and we’ll get a giant snow in March.
It’s possible my project will stay on brand after all. But this is also the great lesson of The 100 Day Project: you don’t really know what you’re going to take away.
In 2021, I set out to paint meadows, and I ended up painting geese and learning self care.
In 2022, I chose to paint on tiny Zentangle tiles in order to set aside a solitary creative practice I could accomplish during breaks from intensive parenting. Instead, I ended up creating nearly all of the tiles while my daughter sat with me at the kitchen table. She worked on her sticker collaging skills while I began to work with watercolors for the first time. I’m happy to have completed all 100 tiles, but I’m even happier to have begun a creative relationship with my daughter–her seeing me as an artist, me seeing the same in her.
And this year, “winter.”
In a way, beginning a photography project feels right in a winter that has been a bit unusual. Photography is creation–the framing, any set up or staging, if that’s your style, and the editing choices. But photography is also noticing and capturing what is there in front of you. It’s acceptance of reality. Sometimes the light is too bright or too dim. Sometimes your tiny portrait subject skipped her nap, and it shows. Or someone walks into your shot. Or there’s an orange traffic cone in the background of your serene composition. Any number of imperfections, any number of surprises or constraints.
I expected winter to look like the photo on the left, but maybe it’s going to be more like the photo on the right.
As a Foreign Service family, with our constant moves and culture shock cycles, we spend a lot of time talking about resilience. And this makes sense–humans cope with an uncertain future by imagining what things will be like. And when you arrive in a foreign country, the picture that’s existed in your mind in the lead up of course isn’t going to match reality. You’re entering a home you’ve never seen, a neighborhood you’ve never visited, a culture you’ve never encountered. We expect to have to be resilient and adapt.
But when we’re in our familiar world, are we as open to accepting the reality of the moment? The pictures in our head have predictable, consistent settings. Recurring characters, backdrops filled in and used daily. This is work, this is home. This is the favorite restaurant, the sports field, the gym. These seemingly constant things make it even more jarring when we have to adjust to changes or uglier realities.
Maybe the orange traffic cone is an unexpected breakup. The overly bright light, an uncomfortable truth.
Do you find yourself going to pieces, or do you see things as a creative challenge? An opportunity to pivot? Do you cling to your original plan, or do you frame your shot around what’s actually happening? Are you hard on yourself when you can’t meet your original goal or expectation?
For now, I’m going to keep my project titled “27 Days in Winter,” but I’m remembering that the framework is built on calendar technicalities, anyway. I’m going to continue to pay attention, looking for bright spots of beauty where I can find them. And if they come more easily than expected in the form of warm days and time outside, maybe that, too, is something to explore and consider.
Take good care,
Dot
News & Updates
Have time before you begin your workday? Matthew Brooks has morning openings available for virtual therapy on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. If you’ve been experiencing stress, anxiety, depression, or are processing a medical diagnosis for yourself or a family member, Matt can help. Email info@alexandriaarttherapy.com for more information.
Blog Posts
This year’s iteration of The 100 Day Project kicked off this week. Are you participating? It’ll be Adele Stuckey’s sixth year participating, Dot Dannenberg’s third, and Laura Miles’s first time. In our latest blog, we’re announcing our projects and reflecting on a few takeaways from years past. Come see what we’re planning, and if you like, follow along with our projects on Instagram: Adele | Dot | Laura.
Links We Like
The tools aren’t as important as they may seem.
Are you pro or against super-Instagrammable art? I think I’m for it.
What being a parent feels like (comic by Liana Finck).
And another favorite comic of the week by Suerynn Lee.
“I lost so many opportunities, relationships, and potential to the time I wasted avoiding treatment [for depression]. Part of me feels like I’ll never be able to make up for it. Like I’ll always be ten years late to my own life.”
My husband gave me a weighted blanket for Christmas, and now I’m obsessed. (Wirecutter)
Very into these sky collages.
“My heart is full, my heart is breaking, and I badly want to stand still a while.”
Why not have it all? Frozen Flowers sculpture by Azuma Makoto:
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