As much as you, me and everyone's mother like to complain about winter there is hard beauty to the season which much like a siren song is irresistible. Yes cold weather sucks, but everything is preserved in it. The promise of a semi-permanence is foiled by the threat of frostbite, a cold and frozen eyelashes if one doesn't bundle up accordingly. And yet I can never escape the charm of winter, charm that I feel is best seen and expressed through ice carving. The parallel for me is one between ice and marble - I could never fathom how marble is made into anything other than marble; I can't understand the transformation ice undergoes either. Furthermore feel that true passion can be seen in extremes, seeing the male carver pictured above really focused and intent on carefully working the ice, regardless of our stares, was a moment I don't think I'll ever forget. The moment when it's just you and your art.