Begin

I told myself I would go somewhere in January but it has come and I am not feeling that desire. I am feeling the need for my nest. 

I did not book anything for the month because I wanted to keep it open just in case I got the urge to travel. 

We all have opinions about this time of year. 

Resolutions. Promises.

Regrets about resolutions not kept. 

A friend told me yesterday that they love January. It is time to metaphorically clean house for her.

So many more feel as if it weighs heavy on them. I feel some of both.

 The freshness and promise of the new year. 

The trepidation and vastness of the year before me.

Hope would be a better word.

I feel the freshness that my friends feel.

We have shed the windows of their Christmas decor.

Georgina has taken down the rugs from The Very Mention of Home show to send to their permanent home at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia. 

The studio is claiming a different vibe. Hot pink foxes. Red moose. Vibrant coves.

Change is in the air in lots of ways.

Decisions must be made.

Plans.

A new plan for a new year.

I have not started the first rug of 2017. I feel like once I do it will settle things into place.

For me the new year will begin when that hook  slips through burlap to create something.

It will be then that I will settle into this year. A reclaiming of my routine. 

Don’t wait for the muse. Be the muse. Hook.