2018: The Year
The year I started in New York.
The year I ended up in Asia.
The year I swung from Kyoto, to LA, to Hawaii, and back to Kyoto again.
The year I spent my mornings drinking green tea with barley.
The year I spent my nights wrapped around a grapefruit sho-chu.
The year I walked arm and arm with a boy; searching for onigaris at the crack of dawn.
The year I started hanging lingerie out to dry.
The year I lost my appetite.
The year I became a dry drunk.
The year I got bangs.
The year I lost my discipline.
The year I almost stopped making art.
The year I lost my best friend.
The year I realized that I am softer than I ever knew.
The year I forgot where home was.
The year of bars you can smoke in.
The year of crying in sushi restaurants, and the Nutcracker.
The year of being angry about things I can’t control.
The year of singing along to songs so nostalgic, I tried to forget all the words.
The year of being embarrassed to be good.
The year of missing you.
The year of missing me.
The year of progress and decay.