I HAVEN’T TALKED TO YOU BUGS SINCE LITERAL LAST YEAR, HOW THE HELL ARE YA? How’re the kids?
Can I tell you about my Christmas? Because it was kind of precious and here’s why: although I had to work on the 24th, I took a holly, jolly stroll down to the city center at midnight for a Christmas Eve service. There weren’t enough chairs and I had to sit on the side of a pillar, and they sang a version of Oh Little Town of Bethlehem that was unfamiliar and it was just nice and strange and festive and reminded me I am living in a foreign country. In the morning, I made cinnamon chocolate chip pancakes like my mom always does on Christmas (except Susan makes them from scratch and not from the weird little pancake mix jar I found at the grocery store–c’est la vie.) New Years was a blur and we’ll leave it at that, but trust that there was a beach and fireworks and a very respectable meat pie at the end!
In fun-news-bulletins-to-top-all-previous-news-bulletins, I just spent 7 days at an arts center on Auckland’s North Shore with 4 other artists and our mentor, a graffiti artist named Otis, learning about/conceptualizing/producing mural panels
and drinking hella mochas. I painted 3 murals in that caffeineadrenaline-fueled week, which have since been installed in a lakeside ampitheater as part of the set for a street-art themed production of Shakespeare. It would be accurate to say this year has gone off with a real bang in the weird opportunities category.
Auckland has recently been hit by moderate tropical storms (imagine living inside a dishwasher and you have a good picture–REAL wet and REAL windy. Less suds though.) On one of these morns, after plans for a beach day&picnic had been metaphorically washed down Queen Street, the day took a turn any 10-year-old might dream of. Stage 1 consisted of eating deep fried Mars bars and was followed immediately by Stage 2: speeding around an insane playground (complete with a human-child-sized hamster wheel, whoever added that was an evil genius) while occasionally being antagonized by a small boy who was not afraid of the big slide I can tell you that, sir. In Stage 3, we ran down the beach in the rain to FREAKING HUMONGOUS hot chocolates. Life was good (and soggy) that day.
By this point in 2018, I’ve also been to a horrible bar that thought they could play the YMCA as a legitimate song and get away with it. (Don’t worry though! I’ve also been to a SO TRES COOL bar with a gin cocktail that is served in a bronze kettle with dry ice.) I went on a crab hunt with a
fancy English princess work colleague, swam in 2 different waters on the same day, and walked through a semi-fried rose garden (IT’S HOT.)
Just on a more personal shelf in the armoire that is this blog, I’m looking for this to be a year of proper hydration and the destruction of habits that are holding me back. First up, fear masquerading as perfectionism; you can work on something for years saying, “It’s not exactly right yet, I can’t release this into the world,” but maybe DONE is better than PERFECT. You guys get it.
(Remember this guy, though??)