the sketch

in

I am without words to aptly put the year behind into some kind of focus ... let alone a context to all the life that's been lived. Given the tendency at this time of year to make sense of what’s past,  I think we are naturally inclined to understand our truths; to thoughtfully reflect on what felt like triumphs; to make sense of those times when the shadows were a little darker and days felt a little heavy. That by doing so, perhaps we can infuse what lies ahead into a mirage we cling to in our minds - that bit of nirvana we hope and pray for in our day to day.  But when I think back to the bits I remember of last year at this time in thinking about the year ahead, I can only recall a desire to sense an impression - to sketch an outline instead of a shape. Yes I had hopes and wishes and goals yet they were trivialities in the grand scope of the review mirror for I could not have even in my wildest imagined all I've experienced. So on the second to last day of this year, I am reviewing all that was; retracing the steps, recalling the sights and sounds, the faces and places and spaces ... the seeds of last year's grains cast to the wind for the year ahead.