We are all witches probably.

I was reading the NYT Sunday paper today and I love reading all about the best books and films and art of the year. I love a good look-back. I make lists of all the things I want to catch up on over the week between Christmas and the new year. That week is holy to me. I consider it the only time of the year where I kind of black out in the sense of responsibility. I mean, I hardly cook, and I am very unkempt. I will eat pie at 10 am. I will stay up all night and watch 14 episodes of The Wire. I will read three books. I will not look at my bank account or open mail. It is glorious. I am in a constant state of busy all the time. I do this to myself. I know, but this week is kind of an escape from all that and I can’t wait. I have already informed my love that we need to make a list of all of the films and tv we want to binge from a pull-out couch as well as all of the foods we intend to consume. I am also buying a large bottle of pretty good bourbon along with the good Luxardo cherries and making an old fashioned most nights.

I plan on making some vision board type malarky this year. I want to work on being my best self and being the best, I can for my growing boys. There is a so much mental health care wrapped up in motherhood and children and I want to make sure 2023 is better for all of us in this arena. We are all talking more about important things. I feel like my whole family held in a lot over the course of losing my mother and the pandemic and our family changing and evolving. I feel like my hormones and the boy’s hormones are peaking at some crescendo together and we have to find balance and chill. Even when it hurts. One thing is that these kids, I suppose even everyone I would consider to be my family seems to be for maybe the first time, wanting to explore and deeply sink into the truth of life. We are interested in each other and the way we love is real and deep. So at least there is that. Everything can be hard, but love kind of does always find a way. A desire path kind of.

Yeah, so I’m excited for the coming year.
We have no choice but to let it in.
Only the ways in which we will respond to it.  
Could it be glorious? Messy? Wild?
It fucking will be.

One thing I am doing in 2023 is to keep a monthly journal. About my life. Like, all the juicy bits and bobs. I bought 12 Fabriano notebooks in assorted colors and I will archive them in my grandfather’s Swedish steamer trunk after this year. Repeat until I die. I think that I have a life that is interesting and maybe my kids will want to read it in the far future. I hope so.

ATS Rando Good of the year things in no particular order:

My son Finn graduating high school and went to Maine to study how to build wooden boats.

That Covid antiviral pill.

I discovered TikTok.

Scout says we are getting matching STAY GOLD, PONYBOY tattoos when he turns 18.

Secret Studio survived another year. And the love and connection we continuously find in Franklinton is beautiful.

I taught over 150 people creativity and poetry workshops. I coached 5 people into their dreams with creativity coaching programs.

I stopped worrying so much about the people who do not like me and really leaned into the ones who do. I am still however sending love to those people because I really do have a problem of not being liked. True, sad story. Baby Steps.

I went another year without drinking subpar crap Tim Hortons coffee just because there is one in my neighborhood.

I saw Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in concert AND he motioned to me, and we connected. Yes. And I saw Tears for Fears and Tori Amos and The Psychedelic Furs and Duran Duran and Roger Waters and a ton of other amazing acts at the Nelsonville Music Festival. <3 All with Keith.

I stayed at the sweet Shinola Hotel in Detroit.

The Whitney bicentennial was BADASS.

I wrote half of a one-woman show.

So was the Andy Warhol Museum.

I went to the movies more.

The ongoing fight against fascists.

I performed a wedding ceremony for amazing artists who are so very much in love.

I discovered a day-old fawn and watched the mom, and the fawns grow up all spring and summer.

Witnessed my friend Lydia write an entire record and was in awe of the creative process again.

Started a tiny tradition of going to Yellow Springs, Ohio for a staycation.

Over 25 women sent me Magic tattoos they got this year from my poem.

Got to send my boys to summer camp again.

Peter Gabriel announced a record and tour.

My dad found a companion.

My kid Blaise found a great outlet in weightlifting. He is so strong.

Joe is still teaching the boys how to build a whole freaking house in Athens, Ohio by hands. No one but them. It is gorgeous and I am a bit jealous of it.

I have been going to the gym for over a year now. And for the first time it is not weight related. I want to be strong.

I reconnected with a mentor poetry teacher of mine and her beautiful family.

I watched so many musicians create music, eps, podcasts and records at the studio. It was breathtakingly amazing.  Like, guys. So much.

Saw David Byrne on mofo Broadway.

Watched on of my best friends blossom and become strong and healthy.

Finally collected all of Bob Dylan’s records after beautiful Amy of Spoonful Records gifted me with the elusive Christmas record.

Spent time in Malibu with my very best college bbs and we all told each other the hard truths of the middle of life.

Watched Scout be in a school play (and just get another role this month) and listened to him describe in detail how he wants to be an actor when he grows up.

AND I started Warm Hands. And this has made all the difference. Expect more of the real me in 23. I was holding back my whole life…

I want to hear yours too in the comment section. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE THIS GETS ME SO WOUND UP FOR GOOD. xo

I did not choose to say the worst of 2022. We all know it. Let’s write it on little scraps of paper and burn it one night soon. We are all witches probably.

YourPROMPTS:

First line prompt. Start a piece with one of these first line/phrases:

She gives him the finger…

His neck was citrus…

I want to take you into the back bedroom and…

Honesty, you have no idea what I am capable of…

This is what I need from you…

Take me home…

ILYSM.

Xo

Amy