Whale Riding on New Year's Eve

Friday, December 31, 2004

Fire cheers while caffeine invades me. I welcome them for this year’s final evening. Much happened for me over the past twelve calendar months: I moved from Houston to Seattle and began a new job, bought a castle and a car and learned the meaning of debt, wrote a novel (resisted disparaging the novel’s quality in a parenthetical), learned to write every day, and grew closer to Doolies emotionally and geographically.

I’ve mentioned before that I wasn’t an end-of-year resolution type guy. I make resolutions when needed (see writing every day, no cable television, gym—okay, that’s a bad one), and I don’t feel a pressing need to make any today. Last year’s quasi-resolution was to cut down on consternations when I write. While I certainly did not cut out all of my consternations, the levels have dropped from a constant buzzing to an infrequent high-pitched whine. The more important part in that resolution was to write more quantity and quality, and while I’m still chasing the latter, the former is coming along nicely, notwithstanding the last few days of post-Taiwan recovery.

Distractions keep tempting me but I managed to beat them back with my small splintering stick. I didn’t think of much to write about in the day, another slow day in the midst of a slow week. But I have an idea that’s been bustling through my brains that I’d like to try to get out if possible. I turned it into the second poem. My New Year’s Eve consisted of watching “The Whale Rider,” a trite if big-hearted movie. I enjoyed it and it cracked a gap in me big enough to get out two poems. They’re not the cheeriest of subjects, and the rhymes and metrics need much work, but—I’ll stop making excuses and post them. Happy belated New Years!

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