I am transitioning to summer. I put away the bright pillows and most of the nicknacks. My curtains are white linen. Since they've been up all year, I'm thinking about washing them. Looking at my Uncle's painting, I feel that I should move it. The oranges that I love seem out of place now that I'm in summer mode. It's interesting how I'm affected by color. In the winter, in the midst of all the snow, I relished my shocking pink Christmas tree. It warmed me and made me feel happy. Now I need the white to cool me. As I sit at my desk, I can see my new fountain. It's right outside my window. This is my space, the place where I create, the place where I am home. I suppose it would be nice to have my own separate room, but I can't imagine anything that would be better than "my room".
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