Winter is the best time for writing. Up in the Northern Hemisphere, around the 45th parallel where wind through pine needles and the raving of coyotes can sonically mesmerize. Black ink of outpouring thought stands out starkly against the snow and the page. The mind is cleared and invigorated by the cold air. Those mute visual thrills like late rising amber moon, aurora borealis and the rare sight of winter constellations are like subtle vision-doorways.
In the lush, warm and ecstatic summer there is sometimes too much life, sound and love at night (or during the day) for the best writing. One is too easily distracted by nature, and by those jewels of nature: women, psychedelic plants and hot-rods. The long-winded concentration needed for good writing comes much easier in winter. One can either use this winter energy for their benefit, move with it or be depressed by it. On winter nights there is very little sound. And there is snow – which stills and sets a canvas for the mind. Winter is creative healing because one’s inner glooms are reflected into the landscape, making one unexpectedly jovial and forgetful of the dead and colorful past.
The details of life and it’s subtle understanding come back – with a cinematic inner clarity. Imagining May is somehow easier in January than in April. The mind gathers creative impulse from strong natural contrasts in the same way that opposites thoughtlessly attract. Yin/yang electric magnetism. Life is dormant and slumbering with stored light outdoors. So the creative mind springs to life out of soulful necessity.