I started one of those jars that people were posting on Facebook. A big empty jar, to fill throughout the year with little pieces of paper on which I've written good things that happened. And then when I get into one of my pathetic funks and think that good things never happen, I can look in the jar for a reality check. (I hope it's the reality check I'm counting on....)
The first note I put in it was that I had spent several hours all by myself in a room that is going to be my office/creative room, sitting on the floor, going through old papers and letters and poems I'd saved and notebooks I'd written in and clips of art I thought were lovely. I was looking for one specific paper (that I never found) and I encountered so much more. I don't have a lot of acquired stuff—I have a fairly sparse aesthetic—but I do have these things, these mementos, these tangibles from my life that I don't have a great memory for, these flirtations, these heartbreaks, these trips to the hospital with my parents, these notes from 5-year-olds who are now 16, this collection of trading cards (First Ladies of the United States, Beat Characters, Great Rabbies, Les As du Musette, and my favorite deck, painted years ago by my friend Cyndi: Ordinary People.
So yes, I started one of those jars.