Here it is then, New Years Eve. In terms of my original agreement with myself, I am finished with tonight’s submission. And was it worth it? I guess so. But as of today, I am relieved.
And a little disappointed.
I know I will see fruits from the seeds planted this year in the art to come, but my ego says I should have done more. Grander, more imaginative work showing more experimentation with materials and raw ideas. And better writing. Perhaps more about my life using less obtuse references. Maybe so many things could have been different. But they weren’t. This is what I did in a year of daily production, amid work and family and lots of cycling.
Which brings me back to New Years Eve, and by extension the new year.
I will not make pronouncements this year as to specific actions, save for the 5000 or more glorious miles of cycling I hope to ride this next year. I renewed my life with cycling this last year. Somehow I had forgotten what I have lived by most of my life: riding my bike alters the fabric of my existence. My body of course is spry, fit, handsome from the exercise; but better yet, my mind has time to clear, to quiet, to ponder. I remember to be happy.
So this I will say, good love is in the air, I can feel it. This is going to be a banner year for all. New ideas are brewing. The freefall of the last few years is over. The attitudes have come full circle. Innovation and independence are surging . I feel it in the energy around me. I can’t help but breathe it in. I am excited to drop the ball at midnight and begin fresh, full of expectation. Until next year, and the next urge, I am off riding into the next scene, the next project , the next fleeting bit of form that I can conjure. See you there, I love you.
Friday, December 31: Pastel, Old Art, Bikes (Thanks Mom!), a wink, a prayer and an Auld Lang Syne.