New Year
I used to get worked up about the new year for a few reasons: the cusp of my birthday, the reflective and self-improving spirit of the humble middle class, or maybe just that last larva of low-self-esteem I can't quite shake.
This new year, for some reason, I don't particularly feel any of those things. No, "I'm going to be a better listener and friend," or "If don't finally lose this pudge, I'm doomed through adulthood." But I did begin a habit a few years ago where I selected some kind of image to keep me company through the months, a kind of totem or inspiration. It started in college when I drew a little anagram for "be hardcore" -- a bumblebee, a diamond, and an apple core. I taped the drawing to my mirror as a private reminder of my commitment to whatever "hardcore" was at the time. I think it was something about dedication and conviction, but I didn't want to use those words (which sounded useless when not used on a football field). The images themselves made sense together, but I'd find myself focusing on them individually somedays. I liked the bee, its dynamism and energy. Other days, I'd shine a little like the diamond, wearing red lipstick and biking fast. The core was the funniest. Unsure of how to really reinterpret it, I'd just eat a lot of apples.
Another year, it was a picture of limes on a tree that inspired me, juxtaposed next to a picture of Abigail Breslin from Little Miss Sunshine as she ordered ice cream for breakfast. Another year, it was Tina Fey from a photo shoot, dressed in black, wearing her glasses, perched on a stage holding a typewriter sideways as if it were an accordion. I especially loved that picture because it was so campy and smart. Last year, I think I drew inspiration from a photo of a gold brooch I have of a beaver wielding a chainsaw.
I don't really have a picture to inspire me this year, off the top of my head. If I think of movies or poems or works of art that I want to keep close by, I return again to Happy Go Lucky, this great film of an incorrigible optimist written by Mike Leigh starring Sally Hawkins.
I cried at the movie because I couldn't get over Poppy's amazing laugh, her ability to laugh at everything. I admire that saturated, neon disposition. I'd like to practice more of it, fearlessly.
Rather than saying, be funnier, I like the idea of just laughing. Laughing's probably the most musical way to listen, anyhow.
So, here's a poppy I drew for Poppy.
