I find this piece to be a little step in a different direction. And it’s got a lot of red, which always makes me a bit uncomfortable. Joy, however, is great.

I used to shy away from joy growing up. Any time I expressed anything resembling joy, my mother would quickly suck it away. I think she associated joy with sin, among other things, so if I was in any way joyful or even just happy, then it was a sure sign I was doing something incredibly wrong. No matter.

Now, 62 years later, I simply don’t share anything with her. No joys, no sorrows. And definitely no art. I think she likes that better anyway.

So in this new year, I am allowing myself a little joy, a lot of happiness, and more art because I can, and I don’t care what people think.