Love letter: Dear morning

Dear morning,I don’t know how to explain it.You burn into my memory like a memory is supposed to: Six am waking up. Grandma bringing in a cup of hot tea. My skates on a towel in the corner of the room, waiting for me to finish my tea, pick them up and go to practice. Daily... for years and years and years.I still skate on those skates, now just for fun, but tea always starts the day.It’s my ritual and yet not a ritual at all.It’s my pleasure and my passion.My lifetime.I wish grandma was still here. She was the sweetest of peas.Postcard: What's the story, morning glory. Collage, acrylics, inks.sent