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And with the traditional counting down to none, and the calamity and riotous cheer that follows, a new year bursts forth.

The past year has been a little chaotic, and I suppose its with the end of the calendar year rather than the passing of my birthdays that I reflect on how things have gone and how they may or may not go, how I take inventory of my successes and failures, my triumphs and tribulations. In the scheme of things, it's all about context, really. This year has, without question, been one nearly devoid of the creative spark or inspiration. I've made no works to derive a fount of pride from, had no electric surges through my minds eye where I toil with ferverent abandon.

It's been a relatively solitary year, and I was made to be a bit more jaded than I'd have wanted to be. I've found a great comfort in the company of my friends and family, and I think in the coming year I will strive to be more vocal about my appreciation of them.

The last year has been an absulute wash when it comes to job stisfaction, and hopefully I can come up with a remedy for that before I rot another year there.

My one great source of pride in the last year has been the strides I've taken with fighting/competing. If you had asked me two years ago if I could picture myself fighting in a cage, and not just that, but winning, I would have probably looked at you and asked what the angle was. It is unquestionably been the arena in my life with the most forward momentum, where each night when I came home exhausted left me with a definitive feeling that Im accomplishing something. I don't think it is even possible to truly explain the exhiliration of pitting myself, body and soul against another person and come out triumphant.

So long last year, and hello new.
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