last winter, while living at home i Elsinore, the snow was perfect and I spent an afternoon building this snowman. his expression is a little mean. I love being in the snow. it makes me feel like I'm 9 again and while rolling big balls of snow it's hard to think of anything else than how and where to roll next. afterwards I was pretty beat, but it was all worth it. every time I went outside to smoke, the snowman had changed in some way.
here he's put on a little snow hat.
one day Thomas had built him a friend and I think it made my snowman a little less mean towards it all; he looked happier and a bit more shy.
one night Thomas had put candles inside my snowman's friend's head, so his face was lighting up the garden. I thought he would surely melt, but he survived the night.
one night it looked as if I'd seen the last of both of them, but...