x " / Face-mounted photographic print framed/unframed
Who doesnâ€™t remember the giddy joy of anticipation we all felt as a kid when we glanced, dreamy-eyed, out the window at night as the snow swirled through the cold winter air, turning the land on the other side of the glass into a vast playground? Some of us have preserved that sense of anticipation more than others. To some, snow is a nuisance, an obstacle to navigate as we go about our busy lives. Others donâ€™t lower their head in a snow storm quite as fervently. Instead of seeking shelter, they seek a connection to those childhood days again, to the wonder of going to bed with the world outside looking one way, and the anticipation of waking up to a whole new way of life.
I love falling snow for the stories it tells of yesteryear, for its unique ability to refocus our attention on whatâ€™s immediately in front of us, for its talent to bring back memories of simpler days, when a feeling of anticipation was enough. Call it dreamy-eyed, call it illusional. I donâ€™t mind. In fact, Iâ€™d agree. For a precious few, albeit cold, hours, a blanket of snow slows all of us down. And next time you feel that giddy anticipation you havenâ€™t allowed yourself to feel in years or even decades, know that this kid thinks itâ€™s okay.