My "new year's resolutions" often come in summer. Or when the new school year is beginning. This makes sense; even those whose work life is not paced by the school calendar were conditioned by it as children, and of course those raising children are inevitably controlled by it.
I feel poised for a new start in so many dimensions. This sense of possibility is accompanied by a sense of claustrophobia- almost suffocation, really- that just makes me feel like FLEEING.
An alternative is to back a rollaway dumpster up to the back door and get rid of everything. Then roll it up to my classroom and do the same. Next would be, I don't know... buying a wig? I'd like to just do something COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED, like come home with a car I've purchased without advance discussion. Go see a tailor and plan an entire wardrobe that suits me. Pack up Rose and go to... New Mexico? for a week?
Take my son and go for some kind of Ou+ward B%nd experience? Or just visit a prison or something? And remember, NOBODY AT MY HOUSE READS THIS BLOG or cares about it, so I can say whatever I want.
I have put two bites out into the neighborhood for a studio space. I have aggressively sought support for professional development opportunities. I have tried to write a philosophical mission statement that clarifies my artistic vision.
Sometimes I totally understand how people just... disappear... and start a new life. But I am very attached to certain aspects of this one. Sometimes I totally understand how the sensory deprivation/flotation tank industry, corny as it is, continues.
Hermitage? Closet lined with black fleece and locked from the inside?
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