This is the year that I will make the time to write: a thousand words a day from here on out, until the notion of a thousand is automatic, and I can focus on trying to tie them into something larger. I want to give at least a thousand words to The Vaults, while working on a couple more regimented projects (which will hopefully result in payment), and try to hold down a day (or night) job, so that I can pay my bills until someone decides they’d like to pay me for my clickety-clacketing. I used to believe that if I wrote enough, and wrote well enough, eventually someone would take note of me, and I could bask in the adulation of my genius. I’ve since been convinced that I should probably develop some sort of plan, as the life of a starving, unappreciated artist is no kind of life for someone with a wife and child, and although I think I could be content living the life of a kept man, I do not believe my wife has any interest in that outcome whatsoever.

And I intend this to be the year when I finally go to Mexico and get to know my in-laws. For years I have been waiting for the universe to indicate that the moment had arrived for me to take my leave of The United States and take in what the rest of the world might have to offer. It will mean leaving behind everything I’ve ever known, and anyone who’s ever known me could tell you that I’m particularly bad at change. I’ve done it a handful of times, and it’s usually worked out for me, but the terror never really goes away. I’m still a little shaky from my resignation at the end of November, and from a financial standpoint, it’s been cause for concern. I have been writing, though, and getting myself back in line with where I want to be. And I doubt I’ll truly miss the San Francisco Bay Area, at least, not nearly as much as I still miss my native land of the Pacific Northwest.

I should probably also focus on trying to learn to be a better dad. I find it hard to understand the viewpoint of my son, and I can admit that I’m not as patient with him as I could strive to be. I need to find a way to interact with him from a less imperious position, and look for common language and ideological middle ground. Less time allowed in slack-jawed vegetation slumped down in front of the television, and more encouragement to actually pick up a book. I need to fight back my exhaustion and read to him on a regular basis, not just when I can muster the animus to attempt it. As he gets older and develops an arsenal of tactics to challenge my authority, I will lose the ability to influence his decisions (aside from his contradictory and punitive reactions out of spite), so if I cannot find some way to reach him now, I’ll probably have to join the Tea Party to keep his rebellious streak from leading him somewhere he may never be able to escape.

I have no idea how I will accomplish this, beyond getting into a rhythm with this blog. I’ve set myself a goal of 365,000 words this year, which means a new post every day in 2015. I’m not sure that I have that many observations about current events and personal trials and tribulations, but I’m going to do it, and I may even have some fun along the way. The move to Mexico will happen whether I am ready for it, or not, and I’m sure I’ll find my footing once I’m there. I’m looking forward to seeing the years of worry melt from my wife in the moment when she wraps her arms around her parents and hugs away the decade that has has kept her from them. And David William, well, I really can’t say how that situation will resolve. I’ve never known my own father, and despite having several role models when I was growing up, I don’t necessarily know how to do it in the off-camera moments. He’s similar enough to me, that I can recognize some things, but he’s also, frustratingly, developing his own personality, and no longer accepts my edicts as sacrosanct.

So where does all of this hedging leave me? Exactly where I was before, but with at least a nebulously defined purpose, which I hope will be enough to propel me forward until momentum takes hold, and it becomes harder not to do the things I must than to merely keep on going. I need to get this book that I’ve been mulling over out of the confines of my head, and onto paper (or its electronic equivalent) before I lose it altogether, and I promised my son I’d write him a children’s book which featured him prominently and heroically. At least, for the latter, I know a couple people who can help me out with illustrations. Since 2001, I’ve told myself again and again to tamp down my expectations, running down every conceivable way in which I might possibly fail. It’s been easier to play out fantasies of Id, than risk being hurt even one time more. No more. 2015 will be the year that I focus on the possibilities of making it, and look only toward success.

I’m good enough to run a restaurant, as over a decade in food service can attest, and my skills in management are easily transferable. But that isn’t what I dreamed of when I was just a boy, and I have a few more years left in me before I’d accept having to surrender. I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember, and it’s almost now within my grasp. I will use the embers of my inspiration to light my way toward my future, and spare not a backward glance into the shadows of the past.

I invite you all to share this journey with me: come and see where it will take me.

-Tex