Winter is Setting In

    It's officially too cold to venture out here in Vermont. This move has marked a significant shift for us—from the bustling metropolitan area of Chattanooga, TN to one of the least populated states, Vermont. Moreover, we've settled in one of the most sparsely populated areas within Vermont itself. We now find ourselves immersed in the world of farm and feed stores, where Carhartt is the prevailing fashion choice, businesses close shop by five, and internet access is scarce. There's a peculiar dichotomy of residing in one of the most liberal states of the Northeast Kingdom, while being surrounded by conservative ideals in the rural countryside.

    The city we now call home has long surpassed its peak in population and economic prosperity. The passage of years has been unkind, witnessing an exodus of both businesses and young residents to larger cities. Those that endure struggle to secure enough work or workers to remain afloat. Restarting my career here has proven challenging, and the thought of relocating to larger cities to sustain ourselves looms on the horizon.

    Yet, amid the hardships, Vermont's beauty persists.

    We're surrounded by sweeping landscapes, serene lakes, soaring mountains, roaring streams, waterfalls, and more natural beauty than any state I've had the pleasure of visiting. Unfortunately, winter has already set in here. 

So, now that I'm inside, warm and toasty from the wood stove, I've turned my attention back to my blog. Tonight I took a stab at animating a simple frog in Aseprite. Here's how that turned out:

 

 I started out trying to design him with a quirky larger eye. You'll see that I cleaned that up pretty quickly as I started to add some animation frames in: 

 

 And the final product:

    I hope you're all doing well. 

    Stay warm and toasty.

Cloud Watchers in the Terminal

Where windows tower, streaming light,

where hearts await an inbound flight

and watch the clouds in lofty wonder

above the leagues that split asunder -

they regard above where angels drift,

and those wistful souls that ever shift,

as dancing clouds eternally chase

windy streams in empty space -

those hearts below shall plead to know,

from where shall freedom be bestowed,

within their flights or with the doves,

within the clouds or high above?

Photo taken over Texas skies, many years ago.

    I've got a special connection with airport terminals. I'd spend a lot of time in them as a kid. For hours, I'd roam an empty terminal. My only company would be an occasional wandering traveler or the janitorial crew passing by. I'd find myself seated in front of a set of windows that towered three stories above me. I'd spend a lot of time reflecting there.

    It was freeing - to be away from family, friends, expectations, to be just another passing stranger to everyone. It was the end of a story, and the beginning of a new one. I knew when I came back through this terminal in a few months, I'd be in a new home, a new school, another new start. For me, it was a place in between, the start and end of a story, the brief respite before the next act.