New Years 2024
My list of things I've learned and more!
I’d like to preface this by saying I am not under the impression that I have the cachet to pull off 4 newsletters in one month. The last three posts have all been time-sensitive, and so here we are. I have been so obscenely online this December and I promise* I won’t be this annoying in the coming months.
Well.
Another year has passed, and honestly… I don’t particularly feel like this one flew by. This one felt like a year. Right?
I just wrote a paragraph detailing some of the truly horrible shit that has plopped into the bowl this year, and it ended up feeling like an unbelievably depressing version of Liz Lemon’s Twelve Month Rap Up.
Thankfully, the Elizabeth Banks inside me was like “I actually don’t think anyone needs to be reminded!” and I backspaced it, sparing you all.
Additionally, I think I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: if you ever find yourself looking to Johnny LaZebnik for insights on the political climate, you should reconsider every aspect of your life. Here’s that quote as a graphic, in case you want to put it up in your office:
Anyway, it’s been a year! The shit-bush is heavy with buds, which are sure to blossom into fetid flowers soon (yes I am a writer, thank you). But as we’ve been pummeled by the fact that humankind sucks ass on a national/global level, I’ve simultaneously encountered a lot of honest-to-god human decency this year.
I’ve grown closer to my community, made new friends who I truly love, and have had a lot of new experiences, the good far outweighing the bad. These eight months of my 30s have lived up to the hype - I really feel like I’m coming into my own. After all, the shit-bush is not the only thing allowed to bud and bloom. In fact:
I have grown to love New Year’s Eve, despite the fact that I haven’t quite cracked the code on a way to celebrate it that isn’t wildly expensive or depressingly anticlimactic. Because I often regret the way I spend the evening, my favorite part of the holiday these days isn’t the ringing in of the new year at all - it’s writing a list of things I’ve learned, which I prefer to resolutions. I explained why in last year’s post, which you can read here:
I also shared a worksheet I made, which I’m very excited to return to this year.
But my lil list is still my favorite tradition. So without further ado, here are the Things I’ve Learned in 2024.
In addition to the more metaphysical things I learned this year, I discovered that I love collaging. My best friends got me into it with a “manifestation” collaging session, which prompted some skepticism in me; my thinking was (and is) that manifestations are very similar to resolutions, in that they’re expectations of something concrete transpiring, and thus opportunities to be let down.
But in spite of my hater attitude, I ended up having a really lovely time, and I think that’s because it was less conjuring, and more discovering.
Collages are a found art form - the end result is dependent on the materials you begin with. As #10 of my list says, limitations beget creativity, and in flipping through my collection of tattered vintage magazines (anyone wondering why I had these prior to my collaging hobby may contact my lawyer for a reply) I found myself discovering how my priorities have shifted in the last year. I found it similar to tarot-reading - creating a narrative out of what chance places in front of you. You have to embrace imperfection - the magazines tear so easily, and it’s impossible to cut them completely straight - and the final product comes about through perusal, luck, and patience rather than effort.
My twenties were so much about effort - pushing myself to do more, be more, accomplish my dreams. I spent so much time panning for gold - taking my little sifter down to the river, hoping - expecting, if I’m being honest - to find huge chunks of gold, sifting and sifting and, after hours, finding a little flake that, upon closer inspection, was actually just mica.
I feel like what I’m doing more these days is sitting by the stream, listening to it burble, and seeing what floats by. I don’t find big hunks of gold very often, but that’s okay, because when you stop panning for gold, you begin to see the tadpoles. You find impossibly smooth river rocks. You learn that - sometimes - mica shines just as bright as gold.
And even if you find nothing all day, it’s okay, because sitting by the river is a reward in and of itself.
So here are some of my collages. I don’t think they’re anything special, but maybe they’ll lead you somewhere, like… I don’t know, a dog leash? Listen… I think the river metaphor was pretty good, and they can’t all be winners.
Happy New Year, dear readers.
The secret is the simmering,
Johnny