Abbey New Year
"Go for it, Abbey," I tell her. "Just jump. Or fall. You'll be alright." It can't hurt worse than smacking into the blinds.
But she holds on with her beak and inches her feet down until she's no longer comfortable with the grip. Then she creeps back up to safety and yells at me some more.
|Wait...is that my book? :)|
Yesterday I went into the neighborhood without her; Abby took a nap. I chatted with some artists who were set up at Palette 22. It's a brilliant idea on behalf of the venue, and they organise it well so the artist can work comfortably and also chat with people. One of them worked with stained glass, but glued it to a glass and then grouted instead of leading. We talked a great deal about both techniques.
I didn't feel awkward, and they seemed more engaged than patient, and we talked about craft and technique. I gave out business cards. I felt legit, and I think it's funny to type that out but I still mean it.
Everything I Do Gonna Be Funky From Now On....and it was. My years in the desert were good years if lean; growing years, and I would go back on vacation and visit them for a week or two. I wouldn't travel back in time and start from there again, because I have no reason to believe I'd make better decisions had I the decisions to make again. Tonight I'm hanging in with Abbey, and we're just gonna Netflix and chill.
Every day is a new year - I believe this in the deepest roots of my soul. I believe it because I've lived it, time and time again, and I will continue to do so. I want you to do it, too. I'm giving everyone an assignment right now, a resolution if you are in need of one for the new year.
Your only job is to exist. If you can also flourish, then so much the better. Just try.
*My* assignment is to remember how to scratch-board. We'll be talking about that.
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