I don’t normally hold with New Years’ Resolutions. My reasoning goes as follows:

1. If a change is necessary, why should it wait for the end of the year? 2. Our culture puts such a ridiculous amount of emphasis on self-improvement and so little emphasis on learning to be okay with the psychological space we have to inhabit our whole lives 3. Most New Years’ Resolutions are broken anyway, so if a change is necessary, this time and method has not proven itself as the most effective time and method to employ in deciding to change.

So, when I make New Years’ Resolutions, I like them to be a bit goofy, something that will add enjoyment to my year instead of something that will highlight superficial ways in which I am inadequate to cultural expectations. Like that year I resolved that sometime during the year I would try to peel a banana with my toes. And then I DID peel a banana with my toes. And then that talent won me free tickets to see Puppetry of the Penis and how great was that? (Pretty fuckin’ great.)

Anyhow, one of the things that’s nice about my family’s Christmases is that they’re so tasteful. And I come away from them with a right-brain overload.

This year, on boxing day, I got up, and Ian and I hung out in our pyjamas playing video games for the morning, because Ethan and Rachel were still over at their dad’s. In the afternoon, we attempted to clean up a bit, but I kept sitting down to play with my new stuff. I sat and sketched the drooping fronds of our Christmas tree in my new sketchbook and then spent some time coloring the sketch with my new watercolour pencils. I picked up my sari-silk yarn and started knitting some wrist-warmers.

It was such an enjoyable day. And since then, I feel like my right brain has been buzzing away in a way that I haven’t really allowed it to in years. The world looks tremendously beautiful, and I feel more present in it. When I’m out driving, I’m dazzled by the colors in the sky, even in the prairie-winter pastels, they’re clear and true like enameled paint. And the patterns of the trees, the buildings and the streetlights against the sky are so interesting. The sunlight off the dust on my car windows turns the edge of my windshield a lovely rose.  The big thing though, is finding that my appreciation of esthetic efforts is much more fault-tolerant. I look around my house and instead of seeing “that shelf full of jumbled ribbons that need to be sorted or put away” I see a lovely mix of colours, the suggestion that art could spring forth at any moment and shouldn’t be packed away, evidence of life and creativity. And that’s basically what I want out of my new year.

So here are my resolutions:

• I will spend more time creating
• I will create in small moments but broad strokes
• I will not wait for the perfect moment, I’ll be creative with the materials and skills I have right now
• I will not take the time to perfect it, I will make creative efforts and then move on
• I will create with my heart instead of my head
• I will let my house become my home this year
• I will immerse myself in the moment and spend less time planning and worrying about the future

I think too that instead of trying to conquer my clutter, I’m going to instead try to turn it into delicious clutter. Like my jumbles of ribbon. All this clutter clearly comes from my being a person who has to have a hundred projects going on at once and a million beautiful project materials for just-in-case. I may as well celebrate that part of my personality and showcase the works in progress, instead of packing away their incompleteness so I can forget to finish them.