XO-LP // Laura Palmer


Love Letters to a New Year.


Dear 32,

Here we are, the eve of another year.

Somehow we raced through this year together: another year of adventures, marriage, self-employment and adulting. 

And on the edge of 33 I'm not feeling my usual nostalgia. I've written a little recap of life each year since I started writing on the internet (May 24th, 2010 I wrote this insightful opening line.) Here I am, 6 years later, with a husband, a better haircut and a life I'm so delighted to be living. I've found myself looking ahead, rather than reflecting, which is new for me.  

It's strange to think about all the literal ground we covered together, 32. Miles of the West, a whole lot of waterways and 36 feet up in a scissor lift. It's not always been easy, let's face it adulting never is, but going through the big stuff with a life buddy and a stack of folks who know and love you is so much easier than going it alone. Running your own business isn't always fun, but being able to draw for a living never stops being amazing. 

In year 32 I ditched pencil skirts, I met Hillary Clinton, I caught a Mahi Mahi, I took the subway in NYC, I saw my drawings in a magazine, I painted the side of a building and got paid for it, I walked the edge of a canyon that took my breath away, I filled 4 sketchbooks, I fell in love with my sweetheart over and over, I managed to draw humans for a giant project, and I kept a plant alive. 

Thanks for a great ride, 32. 

[and thanks to the kid at Price Chopper who ID-ed me last night. You made me feel like 33 is going to look real young on me.]

Cheers to aging. Cheers to Papermate. Cheers to adventures. Cheers to 33.