the beginning of November by Rona Keller
I wake to a world covered in fog and spend my days not doing much until it gets dark again. In those hours before the world turns black I have the strong urge to create. I want to capture the last yellow leaves, the first November rain, the cold wind that brushes the outside of our house, how cosy my room feels at this time of the year, but sometimes I just stay in the moment. I try to enjoy it the way it is and wonder why it always feels like something is missing when I don’t take photographs. It’s never just beautiful or just cosy or just warm, it’s always fading and unsettling and cold, too. I curl up in my warm bed and try to let go, but the artist inside me never seems to rest.