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.

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