Going Nowhere Fast

Inside Out, Upside Down K Howell Chalk Pastel on Paper 

    With its stripped bark and galls, this oak seems made of ritual endurance. It's only mostly dead. Every spring it surprises me by producing something green, a modest display of foliage from an unlikely source. In the winter, it takes on the aspect of the Hanged Man, the archetypal figure of sacrifice and renewal.
    January seems like a month of stagnation and patient stasis in the cold. So much of the world is waiting. Quietly regathering. It's the right time to visit this tree and be amazed at its formation. To get lost in its possibilities. The resilience of trees is remarkable; I like to share their air. Only not for too long, because it's CHILLY.
      Back inside it's more possible to be patient with slow progress... however galling 'Slow' is.