I certainly haven’t done more blogging, have I?
2016 has turned out to be a jagged shit of a year for a great many people. That’s all I have to say on the matter, whatever you think it is; I’m done arguing with people who bring their own adversaries and paste their faces over mine. This right here is a personal reflection, and despite all things I have come out of 2016… and done all right for myself.
Professionally things are as good as they’ve been for years and better. Despite a wobble towards October I haven’t needed to sign on this year, and despite a fiscal hit around the costs of establishing Rob’s art shoppe, she’s working and I’m working and so we’re both actually earning money at the same time. That’s never happened before. More like that please. I’m courting another client – all a bit hush hush until something comes of it – and I’d obviously like to do more work in 2017.
Creatively, things are… decent. I’ve been a bit quiet on the blog front because I’ve been mucking about with videos instead and dumping the least rubbish ones on that YouTube thing. It’s a nice break from writing blogs for a substantial part of my living. I’d like to do more of it, and broaden the focus to include the best of the content from my gaming blog and more stuff like that. I’m sorting channel art out for that and I’m starting to remember how editing works, or at least how to avoid needing too much of it. That’s the second thing I want to do in 2017: be a bit more pro about videos.
Physically… well, the bindrune worked for a month or so, but then I lost some of the post-its and I didn’t get out much for a few weeks when we weren’t well off, and I started drinking, and… if anything I’m in slightly worse shape than I was six months ago. At least a workable dosage has been calculated for my arthritis medication, a balance struck between “less pain and swelling” and “your immune system and liver are dangerously compromised”. M’colleague Chris has challenged all and sundry to walk a thousand miles during 2017. I’m not going to come in first, but I’m determined to come in successful.
Spiritually… I don’t like to talk about the spooky dos too much, but after a few months in the armchair, bored to tears by arguments about meme magic from people who wish they’d thought of weaponising that fucking hideous frog thing first, I recently had… a shock. A rather drastic restatement of purpose. I am lowly, but I talk to gods; though no prophet, I am witness. It’s been a sharp reminder of what I am and what my place in the world is and the sort of thing I should be doing. On Christmas night I shocked myself with the surprising declaration that I want to live. I don’t say that very often. I don’t always want to die, but I don’t have much lust for life either. It surprises me when it comes. It’s a good surprise.
For this year I had no plan except do more. This year I have… a whole bunch of plans. I’m aware that I have the luxury of time on my hands, and that I often don’t do a whole lot with it. Since I started tracking my working time (I was told to, and it’s come in useful for estimating mates’ rates and paid-in-kind arrangements) I’ve become painfully aware that my days slide away.
There’s a bunch of stuff I’d like to do every day.
- Walk 2.74 miles (that’s around the edge of the village and back; easily achievable even on a day when I’ve nothing better to do).
- Write something for myself (my uncle won Shitscram Present Of The Year with the writing journal that offers a daily challenge and a page to do it on).
- Paint a miniature: I’ve signed up for a Tale of Gamers challenge and sworn the Oath of Moment, so the Corehammer crew may rip me a new one if I don’t crank out the promised forces by the promised dates.
- Draw a rune and commit its symbolic resonances to meaning. I managed this for a month, and it was good, so it’s time to take that to the next level and git gud enough to do readings without needing two reference books to hand.
- I feel like there should be something else here to fulfil the Law of Fives, but I can’t think what it should be. It’ll come to me, I imagine. Maybe listen to or read or watch something I haven’t seen before: that’s a good one. I’m a devil for re-consuming the old instead of tackling the new.
These things should be their own reward. I don’t mind saying that after everything that’s gone down this year I’m feeling a little more spiteful and a little less patient and a lot more like I want to live, rather than mark time in the gentle dissolution I’ve craved for so long. That may not last, but everything that tugs me from the armchair and the habits and the vacillation is a tiny act of power in the face of misery, and that is what I’m supposed to be about.