New Year and ?
Again. Again. A new year. Starting over. Starting afresh. Such pressure. Such possibilities. This year, though, is different. It feels different to me. For many reasons:
New President (and a lot of unknowns) which pushes me to re-think my own habits, patterns and expectations. Our quest for hope with Obama the last eight years may very well turn into a sense of fear the next four years. And I refuse to feel fear. I want to stand up tall to my own fears, so I can stand up tall to any fears coming my way from the Trump administration.
This translates into action for me. My hope for the better has transitioned into a need for action. I need to act. To face my fears. A call to arms. That is how I feel and my arms are my art works. This will be a year of painting, perhaps more than of writing. Because through the physical act of painting I feel action. I need to move, to dance, to express.
The act of writing requires reflection and an inward sensibility. The act of writing requires re-writing, re-reading, re-writing, and re-reading. Constantly. When is it done? You hope it will be. You hope for a final published piece.
The act of painting demands that I experiment, that I try, that I risk, that I let it take me where it wants to go. I feel less in control. I feel vulnerable. I hang on while resisting. I pursue my own values, my own beliefs, and my own likes.
This is the attitude I need for the coming year and perhaps for the coming four years.
Happy New Year!