Generally I avoid year end reviews,so hungry am I by this point to look forward rather than back, but in the limbo that is Christmas and New Year, I feel the need to purge the last twelve months with what amounts to a final enema.
2009-In which my 42nd year never really got off the ground. It didn’t really have a chance if I'm honest, stillborn from the first, working in the most toxic environment of my career as a graphic designer, for what barely constituted a wage.
By the median of the year I was emotionally exhausted and hoped to fare better as a gun for hire, little anticipating a diminishing economy and a string of con artists and time wasters who would ravage my accounts and my patience further. By mid November, it was clear I no longer held an appetite for the vocation that has been 27 years of my life.
Still, if there was a sterling silver lining, it was in the fifteen or so shows I exhibited at this year-notably at the Hive in LA and my debut at Comiccon. And whilst I can’t boast huge purchases at any of my openings, the few token sales felt like a triumph when they did occur.
There were other personal highlights, from the twenty days respectively that I spent with my children Thom and then Emma, to the trips to Sequoia and Big Bear with my wife.
In my friendships too, there was a turning point, distinguishing those who are merely fair-weather acquaintances from those who honestly care. I have no time to give to those who only take anymore.
I saw my dear friend Nedda marry our new friend Aaron in a beautiful ceremony, and we acquired a new cat called Ronin, who is a demon with an angels face-albeit a furry one.
As with the whole of my life, my art has been a haven from the travails, a journey with all of its own highs and lows that never dissipates, whatever is happening. Of the dozen or so pieces I produced this year, I think three of them are my best work ever-defining a voice for myself and a direction which has felt elusive throughout my life. If there is a shortfall, it’s the same one that vexes me every year- the never ending search for a break, recognition, a living.
For the moment, I am content that this wretchedly disappointing year is coming to an end.Here is the ever alluring Kate Bush from 1980 singing December will be magic again to celebrate: