Here’s to a New Year!

My experience of the year just past as it unfolded, immortalized by three familiar faces:

black narcissusContemplative…all about eveWry…GoofyWhat the hell?

Okay I’ll tell you — when you get to be my age and are presented with a Christmas cloche that comes to a perfect pixie peak — you just slap it on your head and go with it.

Who knows what will happen this year? I have a feeling it is going to be pretty awesome.

“Surely not as awesome as your hat, Ms Lester?” I hear you cry. Yes, even more awesome than that — for all of us!

Now, now, I am not pathologically chipper. I’m using awesome in the old-fashioned way, that tricky way our language has where a word can mean both inspiring and daunting. Because, in that way, isn’t every year awesome?

I recently read a letter from a friend who lived in Manhattan when she was young. (For more on that visit the inimitable Lost in Arles.) I think the experience was both inspiring and daunting. She was the one who worked at night, auditioned by day, and caught a few brief winks (when she could) in her triple bolted walk-up in Hell’s Kitchen. She ran with the club-kids, a gallant group of young men who (perhaps because they were flying high on Ecstasy) didn’t think to escort her home through the deserted streets of Manhattan at 4 a.m. Do you know she describes these walks (she was young and couldn’t afford subway fare) as serene? She was the kid who experienced, expressed, and adventured.

I was the kid who stood watch — so while others were gamboling, gazing as the stars wheeled above, or talking to raccoons (these ecstatic interludes took place in the canyons) — I would be catching a contact buzz and making sure everyone stayed hydrated. Funny, now that I mention it, I stood watch over a crew of boys. If I dig around I can probably find a Polaroid of a few of us dancing under parachute silk. Why we were in possession of such a thing, I have no idea.

In a certain way, what writers do is stand watch. They observe and then retreat to someplace quiet and jot everything down. I was planning my retreat somewhat late in 2014 — before I got waylaid by very minor injuries and very major holidays. So now if posting becomes sporadic you’ll know why, I’m remembering a narrative I’ll shape into another novel. Something, no doubt, that has to do with navigating through Hollywood, with or without a parachute.

 

 

5 comments

  1. Lovely cloche! I am always wistful when it comes to that kind of headgear. My hair doesn’t… it isn’t… I would have to get a pixie haircut and lose forty pounds (not in that order) to look good in a cloche, and I’m just not willing to do that for one piece of millinery. The only hat I can wear with confidence is a fedora.

    Here’s to an exciting, challenging, fabulous new year!

  2. Heather in Arles

    Thank you for including me in this lovely exchange…but oh how I am looking forward to reading what you will come up with next. Although, truth be told, I would be perfectly happy to reread “It’s in his Kiss” as well!

  3. George Kaplan

    I should like a hat like that, I would take me to the Land of Faerie or, perhaps, Oz! You look Adorable. 🙂
    Such a charming post with a little insight into the whirlwind Romantic years of Lady Heather, too. A Beguilingly Happy New Year to You, Ms Vickie with Much Good Fortune for You and the Mister. Have Fun Writing, Too! 🙂 (I understand you are a little under the weather at the moment, may you recover swiftly returned to your radiant self.)

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