Well, what of it?

It is the time of year for me to make no resolutions, plan nothing and generally not re-evaluate my life and activities in general.

It is also the time of year when I and all of the people I know spend enormous amounts of time stuck inside for many many hours and days on end because Mother Nature thinks it's funny to send us all around the bend with mild stale breath poisoning. So I go through my stuff. And I start thinking about why I have all of the stuff that I still have. And I listen to lectures on CD, or music or movie commentaries and I knit or sort papers or wind yarn or bother to open three different tubs and take out the necessary materials to make a sort of pin-stuff-to-it board that I really need to have around the place (I need more than one, actually) in order to put up the cards and things that I've got ideas and sentences written on so that novel that I started waaay back in November (you know, for nanowrimo?) won't languish in the pits of my guilt-filled hatbox of shit that never saw the light of day.

Because these things are in my home, and they are a part of me, and I am more than a little in love with them both right now. The commitment is a long-term one, you know? It isn't about the long ass blog post that will not be followed with anything for months until I have a fit of the 'must communicates' like I'm having right now. Nor is it about making one huge installation piece of yarn and recycled grocery bags and bits of chewed gum for my living room. These are small steps and terrifying because they build up and life changes and it almost never happens in any predictable shiny happy dreamtime kind of ways. I've made a rug. and a thing to stick cards to. and I've started fingerless gloves. The pile of books to read is lovely and not daunting, but damn if it isn't going to challenge me.

It could be just the timing of it. Could be coincidence. Could be that I'm just ready for things to happen. Could be the New Year.

Don't really care. It's happening and the movements have become forces in some direction that I know I've determined, but I certainly don't know the terrain yet.