From older blog 12/18/06
What a shock. These last few years I've been helping my lovely wife and my beautiful daughter with their seasonal depression ("Did you use the light box today? Taking your fish pills? Get a walk in the sun this afternoon? Need someone to listen?") and in the middle of Christmas Explosion II Laura grinned and told me I had it too. I was jerked up so short all I could do was the mental equivalent of a fish making "o"s.
So many things made sense in a rush. The frustration I felt when the Daylight Savings bill was going to phase in the expansion of Daylight Savings Time, instead of getting it going NOW. The way I treasure and grasp at every last ray of sunshine in the last hour of the day, like someone sopping up every drop of gravy with bread. The way my inner artist in the winter gets even more of a sweet-tooth, and I can't prevent all this yellow and orange from getting on everything. Neon pencils. Ultramarine blue to make the oranges and yellows go shrieking off the page like a flare, signalling the sinking of my emotional ship as Christmas approaches and with it the shortest days of the year.
Check out Gallery 2 and see "Wake Up!" which is my latest. The camera blue-shifted it - in life the blues are so French and lovely deep, making the tangerine and sunbeam colors sing. Looking at it I can smell citrus.
So Christmas Explosion II was shut off as suddenly as the needle skidding off a record. With my jaw dropped open I realized with huge relief that there is an explanation for the self destructive tendencies. Later Laura brought me a glass of water and a fish pill. (I'm not sure who makes them but they are big enough to look like they belong in the other end.) Most of the day we spent outside in the sun, enjoying that warm weather that makes Christmas seem a mirage, but that makes NC winters so lovely. We could almost imagine that spring was only a few weeks away. We grilled (I tried air cured sausages from Billy's in Wallace, NC for the first time - MAN are they good) and sat outside until dusk.
And today, except for the familiar emotional nose-dive at sunset, has been a much better day. Sometimes a demon is easier to handle it you know its name.