When I
look back on this year, I see a lot of puddles—places where bits of my heart
pooled and gathered in certain pockets of humanity, sought refuge in places
both familiar and foreign. Lots of starts and stops, holding on, letting go,
holding on, and cycling, bearing loss and life with friends and family and I
swore, oh I swore this day would never come but it did. It did, and I am here,
and I am still standing.
This
year did a number on me in ways I never would have expected. At the beginning,
I remember not wanting to let go of 2012—it held too much beauty bound up in
its withered days—now 2013 is no different. And when I say I will improve, I
will. When I say I will be imperfect in the process, I will, because I am human.
2013
was (in no particular order)…
A
newfound love of darts. Throwing sharp projectiles at walls is more
stress-relieving than you know.
Hairdye
hits and misses, and the Year Of The Mini Undercut (which is now growing out
very cute and super awkwardly).
Discovering
beautiful people, a few of My People, in the most unexpected places, at the
most unexpected moments. I love the way life works sometimes.
Less
creating with my hands (which was kind of sad), more soaking up the world and
the people in it (which was interesting).
Devouring
the written word, and finding my own words again. Filling notebooks.
Obsessing
over Joan Didion and Spalding Gray and Simone De Beauvoir, and trying not to
drool over the work of Marina Abramovic.
Connection
and disconnection, holding on and letting go, pulling together and falling
apart in stitches—abiding the fluctuation as only one can.
Doubling
up on Record Store Day with fabulous dearhearts and coming away with some
amazing albums, but more the experience than anything else.
Proud-crying at her voice recital, at his talent show. Again.
Being
commissioned to do some work for two weddings and enjoying every second of the
process for both. Pinterest has made beautiful monsters of us all, haha.
Mini
local roadtrips immortalized only on film, partially in writing.
Watching
the slow disappearance of the weathered patio booth, piece by piece. First the
round warped center table, still on its side against the back corner fence, and
then the whole booth itself. Gone. In general, what a year can do to the
landscape of a place, or what people will do to the landscape of a place. Somethingsomething
a metaphor for our lives.
Experiencing
Handsome Ransom’s last show, and the way I cried silently when they closed out
with Broadripple.
Falling
into almostlove, and realizing that for all of my openness, there are still things
I am afraid of.
The
sound of the planes and how they truly turned my stomach after that night. How
some touchstones weather with time, and there’s nothing you can do about it,
except find different ones (and guess what: they’re all around you).
Reconnecting
with nature and long distance dearhearts, and how we were once again a duo, and
two trifectas, and how you never truly forget the people who love you—life just
gets busy sometimes.
Operation
Room Repaint 2013 Edition!
.
That night my worlds converged and I just kept
shooting those darts til steel barrels rubbed my fingers raw, blunted the tips.
The bitterness was deafening, and I hated the round barrel tables, the picnic
one in the corner.
Vinyl parties and sunset lifetalks in the staunch white gazebo of time.
The
love-soaked mess of people at the house where my great-grandmother turned 101
years old, all that light in her face, brightness her smile.
Grand
Stafford Theater experience, Revolution Cafe, those simple soul explosions.
How I
needed that Alt-J show more than I ever could have possibly realized
beforehand, and how strangely certain things are imprinted in your memory, the
ones that you cling to for hope sometimes.
Disposable
cameras in my bag every single month, and how Walgreens stopped developing them
in-house, and it was frustrating but worth the wait, always.
Water
bottles were the new pillows, and driveway hangs were the iconic summer thing,
nostalgic and comforting under balmy humid skies.
The one meteor shower
witnessed. Multiple wishes were made that night.
Planting
strawberries in a martini glass, because it was The Most Practical Thing.
Yoga mats and life mantras and leaving anonymous love notes everywhere we went.
Joining
the technological age with my first smart phone, while expanding my vinyl
collection more than I have in any given year. Bifurcated mind of the best
kind, y’all.
How I
proudcried when he made that decision, because it was proof that he was ready
to fight and in the end came out stronger for it. How we’re both each other’s
inspiration and encouragement, and how the small victories matter.
The day
she walked into the room and I knew the minute I saw her we were meant to be
soulmates. I was right. And how every time I mention Kerouac or Ginsberg or the
Beats, she’s on the top of my heart and the tip of my tongue. Always.
Learning
so much from him, and being thankful for every second I was allowed, even
though I know there are moments I did not sufficiently appreciate while I was
in them. He was my exercise in staying present.
Taking
a swing at portrait embroidery, and having a blast.
All of
those serious conversations, and how some things bloomed and other things never
actually came of them. We still left the puzzle unfinished. I left it
unfinished. It was my job to begin with.
Seeing
one of my oldest friends in her wedding dress, looking so damn gorgeous my
breath was completely stolen, and how honored I was to be part of the occasion,
and how much my heart explodes with joy for the both of them, especially since
that day.
Curbside
poetry late into the night, in the cold. Especially the not-so-cold night near
the alley with the open air barber shop and I cried because the little girls
were dancing on the sidewalk and I wanted to tell them love yourself. Hold onto this moment, even though you won’t. You are
beautiful, and don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise. This was our
therapy.
Becoming
a regular. That could be a good or a bad thing, haha.
Getting
beaned square in the forehead with a pick at the end of the show I accidently
stumbled upon, and how that made me one of the luckiest girls alive. What came
after still makes my heart smile.
Thrift store runs for ugly sweaters, dollars stretching beautifully for such Important Life Quests.
Heightened
awareness, and indulging in calculated risk-taking. It was almost always 1000x
better than I expected, and hardly ever worth the initial stress.
So many
late night friend hangs and mini adventures with my girl Mae, and how
completely and truly blessed I am to have this woman in my life. Such a ridiculous
encouragement and testament that fighting is so worth it. And to everyone else
who has encouraged and supported me through this year (I love you all incessantly—it
wasn’t always pretty, I know), thank you. I mean really. I’m a pretty terrible
human being sometimes. But you were there regardless, so thank you, hard words
and hardknocks and all. Needed that, haha.
I hope everyone had safe/fun new year celebratorials!
You can see last year's list here.
xo
