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She’s An Artist, She Don’t Look Back

“Man, I could really go for a cappuccino right now”

– Me, eight times a day now since my family bought Adam a Tassimo for Christmas. Much coffee drinking (for Adam) and consumer guilt (for me) ensued. But damn, those cappuccinos are fucking fantastic. I’m drinking one now so I can stay awake until midnight. DON’T YOU JUDGE ME GODDAMN IT.

So, here we are on the eve of the old year, prematurely shooing it out the door eager to make good on our earnest promises to be somehow better, more, in 2012.

I’ve been reading a lot of summaries of 2011, stories of a year told in pictures, events, standout memories. I don’t know how to begin to start doing that, start rifling through a years worth of words, moments, actions. Wins and losses.

I don’t have the patience to do that, is perhaps a more accurate statement.

What I get from 2011 when I look back, is more of a general, overarching feeling, than a list of specific events.

Last Christmas we spent the holiday with Adam’s family. His sister had a video camera out and was doing mock-interviews in front of his parents sprawling Christmas tree.

After a few initial questions she asked “What do you hope for the next year?”

Adam was silent, and for a few moments so was I. Then, aware of the silence being digitally recorded for decades to come, I stumbled out an answer:

“Just to get through it, I guess” I managed to say, laughing uncomfortably.

That handful of stilted words has haunted me all year. I don’t know whether I cursed myself, created a self-fulfilling prophecy or just somehow sensed what 2011 would bring, but I was right on.

For me, 2011 felt like putting my head down and just getting through. I felt like I was waiting something out. Weathering a storm I can’t put a name to.

2011 was stagnant, immobile. 2011 saw me settling into a rut, not in comfortable repose, but reluctantly, angrily. I was, and am, frustrated with that rut. That (seemingly) forced stagnation. I felt like my wings were clipped and so I sat and brooded and raged, imploded.

And I got through it.

But, as dear Leonard Cohen says, “…That’s no way to say goodbye.”

So I just won’t. I’m letting last year go, without reminiscing, without anthologizing or summarizing. 2011 happened- there’s proof! Here in my archives! – I had many happy moments and many more that felt like I was repeatedly smashing my head into a concrete wall, blind to an open door just three feet to my left.

Tonight I’ve snubbed party invitations, turned my back on dressing up in gold and glitter. Tonight is me, Adam, Gus. Chocolate fondue. Champagne (but not actual champagne, sparkling apple juice because a) Champagne is repulsive. Does anyone even like it for real? and b) Ever since we watched this it’s become a private joke round these parts and it’s too good to pass up:

…Did you get it?)

Is it cliche to tell you that I have a very positive feeling about 2012?

This year more than ever yawns ahead like a clean slate, a blank notebook. And we love this chance to change, don’t we? It’s one of the best things about us as human beings -hope- the hope that with the passing of just ONE day, everything can switch gears.

When we wake up tomorrow morning, anything is possible. Just for a moment, we can pretend to be different. More, somehow. Better.

This morning I went to a 2 hour yoga class. Adam’s mom and sister came with me and we crammed ourselves into the crowded room and stretched and breathed and chanted softly, 32 voices melding into one single vibrating hum that left the walls resonating long after we’d stopped.

The teachers words were full and heavy, “Imagine yourself swimming inside of your skin”, “Be gentle with yourself” “Breathe”. She was every yoga stereotype come to life, but she wasn’t pretending. She seemed pure somehow. She existed in her own space, completely without ego.

As I moved through the postures, I tried to shake off that persistent feeling of simply enduring, of standing still in stagnant water. As the minutes passed I felt the pressure fall, I felt the rut easing. I could move. My wings spread and I stretched and breathed and as I exhaled I thought “Let go. Let. Go.”

Let go.

I have resolutions for 2012. Plural. I’ll join the rest of the world in posting them January 2.

Happy New Year darlins, and hold on tight- things are just about to get good.

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