Christmas 2004 has come and gone. I spent a good deal of time on the phone talking to my mom, dad, sister, and niece. E talked to his mom briefly and to Kels. Initially he was being a bit of an ass and when I asked him what was bothering him he said, "I miss my mom." I guess.

I'm relieved that we weren't there because that means I missed out on the 1 degree weather. One hard thing is when I talk to my mom on the phone I want to tell her some of the crazy and fun things O and T do but I always feel like she is making comments suggesting I'm doing something slightly wrong or off kilter somehow. I suppose I shouldn't read into it too much. I have to assume she means well. So I tell her anyway and end up feeling like it's a vicious circle of me telling her stories and her commenting that I need a book on dealing with strong willed children.

I am not sad I did not "go home" for the holiday. I realized I didn't have to go anywhere. This is my home and I was glad to be in it, looking outside and seeing the sun, feeling the warm, 60 degree breezes, looking out on the Capitol Records building and seeing the Christmas tree on top.

Christmas, holiday season, whatever, brought no profound revelations, just earthquakes halfway around the world that caused tidal waves and drownings. The latter, barely a blip on a populace busily pondering plans for New Year's Eve. I wonder what would happen if a tidal wave hit Los Angeles? Would Venice get washed away? Gone, the drum circle. Gone, the incense sellers. Gone, other unmentionables, certainly.

I started reading The Artists Way again today. I really like the book but haven't done any of the exercises in it for years. I am at a place personally, professionally, spiritually, where I need to reconnect. I need change. I need generosity.


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