I’ve been waiting for you.
I’m afraid of you, a little bit. You’re all fog and mist and muddled reflections in waters that never seem to settle.
I don’t know what you’ll do to me
–where you’ll take me
–who you’ll throw across my path
–who will fall off if the path is rough
–what art I’ll see
–which landscapes will becomes the most familiar
–whose smile will be my favourite.
There’s a lot I don’t know about you, 2016. You’re a tall, dark, handsome mystery.
We have things to do, you and me.
Little things, mostly.
2015 was the year of big, strange, weird, wonderful, messy things.
2015 gave me a massive push from behind.
I tripped through 2015. But it was the almost-not-quite-a-face-plant that I needed.
I’m grateful for 2015.
You, 2016, I think you will be a good transition year.
A transition to where or what, I don’t know. But that’s why I need you.
– Resolutions –
I make resolutions every year, 2016, and I never keep them. They loll around on my bedroom floor until February, and they usually end up kicked under my bed.
Resolutions are my biggest dust bunnies.
This year I’m making small resolutions. If they end up under my bed, they will be mouse dust bunnies, not mammoths.
Tiny, tiny resolutions. So tiny they’re cute and a little bit disconcerting.
- Write a sentence every day (other than on Twitter).
- Drink more water.
- Read (at least) 15 non-university required books. Preferably diverse ones.
- Go on a solo road trip.
- Watch an Audrey Hepburn movie.
- Finish a painting.
So here I am, 2016.
Have at me.