Last night was an ice storm. It is too warm for the branches to be as gorgeous as they sometimes are after a storm like this, but they are still rife with drips and drops lazily funneling down branches and sparkling in the light.
There was, at 3AM, a cat yowling outside my windows. It wouldn’t come in out of the ice though. It kept hiding under the window box, running away, scratching at the exterior door, and coming back to the window to yowl. Gracie was not amused, though he did eventually go back to sleep.
I had been waked up by the existential dread that used to wake me more frequently. These last months, it chases me again and more suddenly and intensely than before. Perhaps this bare drawing is just as emotional as the last couple colorful ones. An expression of desire to branch out in the world and shade with leafless sparkling branches.