Another year over

And I always feel obliged to write, to sum up, to express hope.

And there is Chabrier, because who else (Bizet brings tears too, not just joy) pummels such unbridled cheer into the world. I spent some of today reading on the balcony (nails: Colour me Coral) and listening to a wonderful doco about Jim Morrison. It has been a slow day, just like the last few since Christmas. Comfortable long days, full of sun and thick heat. In fact since yesterday Perth has been tropical. The haze over the city yesterday was mysterious and foreign.

I have started swimming again, and in the forgiving coolness of the pool I am feeling like I am returning to myself.

This year has been less than perfect. I have moved twice and licked wounds and opened them up again, but if this year has taught me anything it's that love is unpredictable and irresistible.
This was also the first year without the resonant and wise voice of Gyula tata in the telephone at Christmas. But such emptiness makes me all the more grateful for the Gyorgy women in my life.

The best thing that happened this year was the job. Sorry, that Job with a capital J. For the first time in my life I am not a PA. And it has changed things and opened things inside me that I hadn't even realised were there, or closed. Dark rooms that are now filled with dust motes dancing in the fresh light.
I am happier in my work than I ever have been before.

And words have also settled back into my life. These last few weeks have been cyclonic in their reading fury, but I must confess that most of it has been lighter literature. I have, however, discovered and grudgingly fallen for Nikki Gemmel.

My one new year's resolution is to run the Rotto Marathon. But there are of course many other hopes that I will nurture and try to make reality. A home for a cat. A home for me. Always bettering myself at work, but remembering to play.

Happy New Year!

And from Chabrier moving on to Liszt: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goeOUTRy2es - around the 6th minute a soul explodes.