I'm struck by the idea of fragility in so many things, including these days the seasons. Summers are getting hotter, winters shorter. I don't love the deepest cold, but I love what winter looks like. Snow that seems to transform everything it touches, translucent ice, tree branches waving against dark clouded skies. What if all that beauty goes away?
I have begun printing winter scenes on very thin paper, and treating the paper in a variety of ways. I think the images suggest not only the season, but the fragility of the season. Maybe also something about the fragility of human existence, and the thickets and struggles we go through.