When I sat in the ice, wet, drawing on crisp white fabriano paper, looking out across the landscape, each black basalt rock, each snowflake felt so raw, so honest, so...
When I sat in the ice, wet, drawing on crisp white fabriano paper, looking out across the landscape, each black basalt rock, each snowflake felt so raw, so honest, so unadulterated.
They were part of the magic. Part of the very structure of the universe. They were stars in the sky, they were cells in my body, they were tangible totems.