It's strange how everything seems to slow down a little in the second half of December. People start saying, "next year, let's talk then," and one is forced to account for the fact that nothing is going to get done anytime soon.
It seems callow to say that, but I feel like some part of me moved here for the sole purpose of fully indulging my intensely ambitious streak. I used to say I came for the culture, or the energy, or because I like to walk. When I got back from France, I once again felt that strong desire to reject everything about myself and my life that was too commercial, too consumptive, too American. A person can work 24 hours a day here and not be called a workaholic. In New York, I'm a freelancer.
I've been trying to respond to the way that the weather and the season are dictating the pace right now, but another part of my life is accelerating; the projects, the possibilities, the opportunities are endless. 2005: I'm waiting for you.
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