November's Postcard of the Month
"The world is always turning toward the morning..."

It's a pity we don't know What the little flowers know They can't face the cold November They can't take the bitter snow They put their glories all behind them Bow their heads and let it go But you know they'll be there shining in the morning...

Turning Towards the Morning, by Gordon Bok*

This beautiful song has haunted my Novembers since I first heard Gordon Bok sing it - while I was visiting his home in Maine - 40+ years ago. It was in part inspired by his friend**, Joanie, who was having a difficult year, and its message is a reminder that everything changes, morning - and Spring - always comes.

I've always thought I would play/sing this song at the memorial gathering for my mother - whose name is Joan, and whom Dad still calls 'Joanie' - some day. Makes me weep every time - I'll never make it through it! (This event is not imminent...)***

Anyway, there were several iterations before I hit on the final version of this month's card.

Since Mule (despite still recovering from his several broken upper-body parts...) and I

were in the midst of stacking our 4 cords of cut/split wood,

Rachel suggested a woodpile theme (thank you, Rachel!).

So I played with that:

 Then I played with the dynamics a bit - adding verticals and horizontals:

Then mitigating some of that white space...

Then some rubber-stamped leafless trees:

Didn't care for how this was developing though, so I started all over,

and ended up with the simpler, more fluid, less grid-like version.

And so...

The Fixin's

And...

Pre-production step: gluing the silver behind the circle opening:

Steps: The Movie:

The Steps

(There were a mere 12 production steps this month!)

Panels of 12 of November's postcards:

Fin.

*Full lyrics: https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Gordon-Bok/Turning-Toward-the-Morning

** "One of the things that provoked this song was a letter last

November from a friend who had had a very difficult year and waslooking for the courage to keep on plowing into it. Those times,you lift your eyes unto the hills, as they say, but the hills ofNorthern New England in November can be about as much comfort asa cold crowbar. You have to look ahead a bit, then, and realizethat all the hills and trees and flowers will still be there comeSpring, usually more permanent than your troubles. And if yourcourage occasionally fails, that's okay, too: nobody expects youto be as strong (or as old) as the land." - Gordon Bok, 1975
***Me and my mother, 'Joanie', as she was in the midst of prepping apples for applesauce last week, in the kitchen of the Memory Care Unit where she has lived for 6+ years.