In The Cold

The struggle is uphill, always. The obstacles are many and imposing. The burdens, heavy. It never gets any easier and there's never a reprieve. Even at the pinnacle, you find yourself alone. But... you don't turn back. It never even occurred to you not to embark on this journey, this harsh path through the night. In the cold. By yourself. This is what must be done.

It starts with that one step. After that it's one foot in front of the other. You make your moves, take your time. Be careful. Pay attention. Behind you is the evidence that you're actually going somewhere. The footprints, bold scars on an otherwise pristine snowscape. A trail back to where you've come from. Where you've been. The story, incrementally told to no one... but you.

Going back to when I was just a pup, many years ago, I would draw an annual picture of Santa Claus for my father at Christmas. I didn't plan this, it just kind of happened. It was just something I did. I haven't done this in a long time. I've definitely drawn Santa Claus pieces over the past six years or so, painted them, printed them... but these were not specifically for him. They were for everyone. I've sent them to my best friends, and strangers. I've sold them. Lost them.

This piece, I drew for my father. This year, we spend this day together, out in the world for the first time in a long time. Together, we both travel this path. Alone. In The Cold.