A confession: I get sad about New Year’s. I get maudlin and existential and am prone to weepiness. Shit gets intense and I don’t deal with it all that well. I try to avoid facebook because the mass chronicling of others’ peak experiences tends to make me both resentful and hyper-critical of my own, clearly pallid-in-comparison, existence. Talk of resolutions and hopes for the new year tends to freeze me like a deer in the beams of a mack truck.
But I do have hopes. I quit my job 2-odd years ago to make a go of living on my art and haven’t had to return to full-time employment since.
This has been the most wonderful, but also most challenging and terrifying thing I’ve ever tried to do.
So I guess I hope I get to keep doing it.
Thanks to all of you who have supported this little venture of mine; I hope I can support you in yours.