What I Did Last Year

It's the new year. 2026. I took the last two weeks off from blogging—Christmas and New Year's didn't need commentary from me, and I wanted to be cozy with family. Christmas at my sister-in-law's, then Virginia to see my dad, then New Year's Eve at our place watching the ball drop on 34th Street with friends and neighbors. It felt right to step back.

But now I'm sitting here feeling overwhelmed. Last year at this time, I was charged up. I'd worked through some difficult years and was excited to move from treading water to gaining ground. 2025 started strong. Then my dad was hospitalized on February 3rd, and everything fell apart. For months it was just me, him, and my stepmom in that hospital room. All my goals for the year suspended. Back to treading water.

My dad is doing much better now—better than he has any right to, honestly. I spent the last part of the year trying to get back on track. So here I am at the start of 2026, looking for that super-charged feeling again, but instead feeling like I have more to accomplish and less time to do it in.

Is there ever enough time?

I think a retrospective is in order. When you're looking ahead at everything you want to do and feeling swamped by it all, sometimes you need to look back at what you actually did. Not to pat yourself on the back—just to remember you've been building something all along.

Here's what happened in 2025:

I started blogging again. I've attempted this several times in my life and never stuck with it. But last year I showed up every week since October 1st (minus the holiday break). That's not counting Substack, where I showed up earlier in the year too.

I started gardening again. Planted a lot of things for the first time. Some things thrived and some didn’t. But I learned a lot. Including that pruning flowers is a really nice excuse to get out in the sun every morning.

I applied to and became a member of the Potters Guild. It's hard to get in. This was my second attempt, but I know some who’ve tried several times.

I tabled at my first market and actually sold some stuff. Like many artists, I have a strange relationship with selling my work. I'm used to clients paying me to do something specific, but making something and then offering it for sale is still weird. I knew I needed to jump in and start building experience, so I did.

I built a habit around language learning. It's always been a dream to be bilingual or multilingual. I tried to teach myself Russian with my dad's old textbooks when I was eleven. It didn't work, but it was the beginning of many attempts—four years of French, a couple Italian classes, Duolingo for Spanish, Japanese, Danish. Despite doing well with grammar, nothing stuck. Last year I discovered comprehensible input: learning like a child, seeking out media in your target language and just listening until it clicks. I've dedicated half an hour or more most days to watching Spanish videos or listening to Spanish podcasts. I'm very much still a beginner, but I can tell it's working.

I went to South America. I don't know if this counts as an accomplishment, but travel is meaningful to me.

I went to a lot of art museums. Again, maybe not an accomplishment, but very inspiring. I know a lot of what I encountered will show up in my own work this year.

I learned I'm stronger than I thought. Going through that time with my dad in the hospital taught me I could handle one of my greatest fears. I know people have to go through this—it's part of life for most of us. But that doesn't make it any easier.

I applied to literary agents and was lucky enough to talk with quite a few. I got offers and rejections. Nothing felt like the right fit at this time, but I learned some things and feel I'll be in a stronger position if I decide to make another attempt. For now I’m feeling called to other things, and that’s okay.

I started earning royalties on a number of projects. Not anything I did this year, but it’s still a boon and worth mentioning. Nice when past effort pays dividends.

I started building a feedback community for illustrators. It's practically done. I wanted to launch it last year, but with so much going on, I decided not to rush it. Also, between you and me, I’m nervous about it so maybe procrastinating just a bit.

A new year can feel like a new beginning, but you're not at the beginning. You're building on all the tracks you laid in the past year. Sometimes you were treading water. Sometimes you were gaining ground. Either way, you kept moving.