It’s been grey in New York lately. I’ve been grey, or maybe it was grey blue? We so highly value constant “positivity” these days, it’s become almost a sin to say you’re a bit blue, melancholy. Moody, grey blue, I like it.
I like the grey, the grey rainy days of early Spring are not all bad. They’re a good time to stay indoors and “go in,” as a beloved yoga teacher used to say, at the beginning of each class. We can’t live outdoors, or outside of ourselves all the time.
There are things to be discovered inside:
in our minds, hearts, and psyches.
Spring is going to come when it’s ready to. Spring is for action, for getting out and seeing things in that new, young way. I’m fascinated by buds: buds on trees, tulip buds, little green gnarly things on bushes. Even the babies, in their strollers are no longer swaddled like little mummies.
The greys and blues give way to colors even I have to love.
Dusters are all over the place this Spring. I had never owned one until now. This one is from Peruvian Connection. It’s 100%, garment dyed linen from Portugal. Underneath it I’m wearing a cotton slip dress. The Frye sneakers are thrifted. The duster reminds me of an artist’s smock: it’s simple, utilitarian, and makes me feel reborn.