The body is a demanding vessel. It is hard to step out it. To deny its needs and desires. I walk in the cold, my fingers stinging in it. I find myself thinking of little else but making them warm. They call up all of my attention. I want to stop, remove my gloves and draw. I try it, but not for long. It is too much. My hands refuse to work, to submit. My body has taken over. I am lost in its forces.
