As the new year begins and I return from a cozy party with friends, I click through a bunch of blogs. They catalog resolutions, antiestablishmentarian rejection of resolutions, self-help strategies, and a slew of advice that, when taken in all at once, is pretty useless. But through it all, an especially warm-hearted, apparently timeless old sentiment from Neil Gaiman stands out to me:
May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art -- write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
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