• new accomplices
• necessary farewells
• laughing a whole lot to myself
• the Panhandle during the golden hour
• my mama telling me that I have an I have a secret smile
• "what are you thinking about?"
• my new planner ("diary" is what it is called in Australian and that's where I got it, so that's what it says on the cover) — it is perfect in every way
• star projectors
• perfect toasts
• nighttime magic
• Highway 1
• acting my age
• beginning again to want
Nights with my darling Aussie sister and her boy are too precious for angst, and no one should drink sparkling wine unhappily, but so it was. Too much wine with too much sadness. I cried so hard and long that the neighbors complained. Upon waking (full of shame, empty of energy), I reached for my phone to see via camera what the state of the previous day's eyeliner was —
I love New Year's Eve. A night of magic and goodwill and finery and hope. My favorite holiday in the whole year. What better way to spend the last few hours of 2012 and the first few of 2013 than with laughter and music and marching around my darkened city dressed to the nines and with a new accomplice's hand in mine? Fireworks above the bay, seen from the sidewalk, all kinds of gifts tangible and intangible from strangers. I begin 2013 feeling simply: at home. Because this is my city, and my life. For the past six weeks or so I've had the worst anxiety I've ever had, but still somehow I feel confident. This is my life. It delights me. It is going to delight me.
This picture was taken to commemorate the first day of feeling okay after five days of being cooped up and miserable with a mostly untreated cold. Fresh air — sunshine — and steamed broccoli with garlic mayonnaise, 'cause it's nice to have an appetite and not take it for granted.
Western Australia, November 2012.