The Jazz Juxtapose of Paper dolls and Mahogany

It is the middle of January. A dreary and desolate sort of environment lurks outside my window. It’s quite dark out. Five in the morning yields an unfathomable black coldness. The silver silhouette of the mahogany tree rests center line amid my view, almost ghost-like, contrasting the bleak sky. The lifeless branches snake through the air and disappear into nothing. Perhaps I can pass the time this way: one, two three, four, five six… No, surely there are too many branches to count and too lacking of light to see them all. Yet, here I am fully awake and conscious of my still surroundings. My clock reads quarter past five in the morn. The dull ticking noise emitting from the second hand is repetitive, perhaps vaguely irritating, yet eerily soothing at this moment in time. Further past I hear the fridge humming like a drone off in the distance and what I might possibly identify as the whisper snore of my slumbering dog. A habitual routine has me awakening my speakers as my day commences. In light of the occupants of my house, I keep the volume low this early. A light jazz tune trickles out the speakers filling my ears with relaxed melodies. I find myself staring at the paper slotted in my printer. Paper dolls will occupy my time. A multitude of ways to fold them, shape them, color them and dress them. I could juxtapose the rough winter environment or mirror a cliche image of beauty. So many ideas, so much time, perhaps I'll just go back to sleep.

Five is the magic number,
~Chik5.