The end of the year always gets me a bit melancholy, as it has been discussed on the blog prior to today. And going into Christmas and the New Year do the same. Ever since my stepfather was killed in a car wreck in January 1986, I have always had this sense of doom about the post-holiday period...many times nothing happens to justify it, but it is there. That crash after the festivities.
Last year the crash came later, around January 30, when Lisa and I agreed that what we had was no more and it was time to end it. And 2007 has been defined by that moment and that day. It's been a very long, slow death of a marriage. No papers have been signed yet, but I am out of the house, and my daughter is getting used to the new reality.
On the bright side, the new change in my life has led me to begin writing again, and I started painting later in the year. The writing culminated in a 30-page chapbook. The painting, which really has just begun, is being rewarded with my first public showing of a piece.
And I've made a few new friends.
But still, that sense of doom at the holidays still lingers.
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