It has been several days since I posted anything more than a Zentangle. It is not that I have been too busy to write. Rather, I feel as though I am reacting to the languidity of the local weather–torpid, oppressive, almost debilitating. The glare of the sun bleaches color from the flowers and greenery. Although I spend the majority of my days in pleasant air conditioned comfort, the weather bares down on my consciousness in unexpected ways. Here in the Caribbean, on this island named for St. Martin, there is little relief from the weather patterns during the height of the summer, even after rainfall. The environment recovers to its stasis within minutes of the relieving cloud cover which lasts for only heartbeats.
Happy writing! Happy tangling!