Sunshine Song- At West End Gallery
It is the artist’s business to create sunshine when the sun fails.
–Romain Rolland, Jean-Christophe, (1904)
I am generally a fan of winter weather. I like colder weather and snow and the quiet it brings. Even so, I have to admit that I am getting tired of it this year. Tired of slipping and sliding on ice, probably because I am still working off a slight concussion from a fall this past weekend that had me stumbling around like a middleweight boxer who had just been hit flush with a haymaker and is forced to take a standing eight count to regain his bearings. Tired of the oppressiveness of the sky’s constant grayness which matches my mood or that of the country a little too much. Tired of wearing layers and layers of clothing and having to put on crampons (ice cleats) just to walk to the studio.
Even the beauty of the snow is compromised at the moment. Here in the woods, it has no fluffiness or moisture now. The thought of going out and perhaps laying in the snow to make snow angels is gone as the thin layer of snow is hard surfaced with sharp icy edges.
Just want some sunshine. Want some brightness. Something to burn away the grayness of the sky and my spirit. Want to feel its warmth on my skin again. That has been such a rare occurrence this winter.
There is some consolation in that I do, at the very least, have my work. I have the luxury of being able to go into it and make my own sunshine, much like passage above which the Nobel Prize-winning French author Romain Rolland wrote in his best-known work, Jean-Christophe.
It does help to have some capacity to create one’s own sunshine. But it only goes so far. It’s not a self-sustaining perpetual motion kind of thing. It needs some input, some help, some influx of outside energy every so often.
It needs to see and feel the real sun occasionally, even if to simply be reminded that it is still there. With it, the bitterness of cold, the trudge of snow, and the skeletal trees of winter are tolerable.
Okay, enough. The gray light of morning is coming through the studio windows. Barely. I have to go make some sunshine.
Here’s an old song from Donovan about a guy I could use right about now, Sunshine Superman.
Redtree Times 
I hope you are feeling better. I know how you feel. I fell twice but hit my head lightly and have been wearing crampons for days now. Not fun.
Thanks, Lucy. So sorry to hear about your falls. You’re right– it’s no fun!! Be careful out there…
I love that quotation, but you’re right: creating sunshine isn’t a perpetual motion sort of thing. I hope it won’t be long before you’re walking on sunshine instead of ice. No need for crampons then!
“Walking on Sunshine” was one of those songs that was so ubiquitous at the time that I kind of stopped listening to it when it came on the radio, which was still a thing back then. That happened with a lot of great songs– “Hotel California” and “Stairway to Heaven” come to mind, both of which were so popular I could often switch around radio channels and they would be on several simultaneously. As a result, there are songs I have conditioned myself to reflexively avoid. But I have found that when I hear these songs now, I remember how great they are. This is one of those. I always forget how utterly infectious it is. Thanks, Linda–I needed that!
Are you okay?
Thanks for asking, Lucy. Yes, I am doing okay after my fall. Of course, I am creaking a little more these days and still worried about a lot of things taking place right now, but doing okay. Hope you’re doing okay, as well. All my best!