Thursday 31 December 2015

On the eve of a new year

It 's a few hours before the clock lands on a new year.
As with every period, one tends to reflect and ponder.
The page that I am about to turn is in fact a good number of pages, journal pages, annotations, quotes that helped me get by, chronicles of my travels, drawings and papers I pasted on my notebook, and also, silence.
Returning to the place where I grew up has made this year quite unique. I lived overseas for five years.
For all my life until now I used to feel awkward for not having had a straight forward path like most people seem to have. But as I look back I feel devoid of any such concerns and instead,embrace life exactly as it has been, as it is. It's the twists and turns and times of absolute doubt that brought meaning; moments I would not have lived had I chosen a predictable path.
I wouldn't change the struggle and the joy, and by the time the clock reaches midnight and the beginning of two-thousand-sixteen I will not wish for anything other than for life to keep constructing and deconstructing me. 




Georgia O'Keeffe is one of my favourite painters of all times.