I come back to my desk after a few cheeky ciders. Hobart is swelling in its seasonal best and walking around to find friends offering the states best produce is hard to pass up. After slogging my way through the last few days of migraine induced lethargy, it finally feels like the festive season.
I ponder 2016. It shot off to a very rocky start. The most tumultuous of break ups I’ve experienced yet plagued the beginning months. The death of the family dog came soon after. I still cry about him now. I remember thinking early on “fuck you 2016”. I know for loads of people it didn’t improve very much and I’m aware at the fragility of the world we currently know.
BUT in spite of the beginnings I find myself happy in the end of my year. I’m so content in my move back to Hobart. I find inspiration daily in it’s beauty. I share a working studio with the most gentle and strong humans and I’m motivated daily by their dedication to their craft, as well as their humanness. Humaneness.
I’m navigating my way through caring more for myself than I ever have. It’s not easy, I’m learning a new skill. I rest when I need to. I take off on solo adventures when I want to. I’m learning that if I feed me, it’s easier to water those around me too. My post wedding photography ritual is spending dazed days buying plants and surrounding myself, through shades of green and mismatched pots with the stability I crave.
From my studio window the breeze makes it’s way in, it carries the words of a busker, spruiking being paid for his performance and the mottled words of Crowded House. “And we might still survive, and rise up through the maze. If you could change your life, and never be the same.” I can think of no crazy changes I will make for 2017. I am on a positive trajectory and it feels fluid and brave and full.