Three hundred sixty-five action-packed days ago we arrived in Santa Clara. I know my way around a bit, but much of Silicon Valley remains unplotted for me. I’ve met some lovely people and made acquaintances. It was stressful, this transition, since it was accompanied by family problems and big events. My energy was scattered and I had trouble identifying the shape I wanted my life to take. I hope next year brings more clarity and depth. I intend to continue making collages and playing creatively. I commit to my writing more seriously. I will find a way to use my counseling skills.

The key, I think, to achieving the inner bounty I desire is to apply focus and discipline. I reveled in the time involved making that recent collage. To prepare for a photo session for the magazine interview I did, I started another canvas. I’ll an appointment with myself to spend time on the project, and when I finish this one, I’ll set another one in motion and make a date with myself again. Repeat, and repeat again.

With regard to writing, I’ve decided to commit effort to the genres of memoir, personal essay, and poetry. I accept that I have no interest in writing fiction and “real writers” don’t all write for that genre. I do want to learn more about freelance writing, although this may take time to break into. Meanwhile, I have plenty of source material for writing about life. I put a notice on Craigslist to create a memoir-writing group; three people have responded so far.

As for the counseling, I need to contemplate the life coach practice I’d incubated last year. I have contacts, and I could explore this. It appeals as a future source of work because it would be flexible, allowing time to be a mother — another endeavor I hope to undertake. With these aspirations, along with reading and taking care of my physical fitness, my life is rich and meaningful.

On Wednesday my mother-in-law arrives for a week — her first visit here. There will be much to do and see and probably less time spent on the Web. Then a couple of short weeks later will find me winging east to Syracuse, where I’ll visit my parents and one of my sisters. We plan to head to my mother’s hometown to see relatives too.

This is all an auspicious beginning of my second year as a Californian.

It’s the way to educate your eyes. Stare. Pry, listen, eavesdrop. Die knowing something. You are not here long.

–Walker Evans