Why is it that the language falls so short of what we normally feel needs to be released, shouted, let free into the world? Recently I feel like I want to go to sleep with Thesauruses and books surrounding me in my bed. Who knows, perhaps the words will slip into my head while I am asleep and I will wake up being able to express everything around me and everything I feel.

Maybe that is why songs are always new: they combine language with music, through the experience of a human who longs to communicate the innermost world before it disappears or swallows her whole.

Tonight is the Winter Solstice, and I can feel it in me. I am listening to Florence and the Machine as I am typing this. Earlier, as I got home, the moon was just a sliver, but so bright it was surrounded by a halo of light and the clouds were torn and light in the purplish blue sky. Something is shifting, calling. I don't want to live anymore in status quo or fearful expectation of any sort. I want to be here now, without regrets or apologies. It is time.

A quote that caught my eye from a review of a book in L.A. Times (review by Timothy Rutten):

.." Perhaps there's a kind of antique dignity in the simple refusal to to justify one's self upon demand. Like the lover's heart, the artist's daemon has its own reasons."

This morning, starting on a productive note and going off to teach one of my favorite students I noticed a lovely burgundy autumnal leaf on my windshield. It was strategically found on top of my left windshield wiper – right in front of the driver – and as I drove off, I assumed it was hanging on for dear life.

It is still there after a full day of traffic, Westchester, Hollywood and the Valley and all the way back to Venice. As I tried to remove it, I realized that the stem of it was caught – or decisively lodged – under the wiper and I would have to exert some effort to remove it. And so it is still there. I had a lovely and very productive, rather successful day. Having that little bit of foliage within my visual frame made it even better.Considering my car is burgundy, as well, it was rather sweet. And since I figured out a few things this morning that had to do with long-term/short-term strategy and threw off my confusion of the past couple of weeks, it was almost like a sign of sorts: my daemon sending me a leafy message..

oh, I want to be back there now. And I want snow. Is it the rule that we want what's not immediately available?

I would like to make it a partial resolution to actually cook more in the coming year. In my former long-term relationship which ended a year and a half ago, I tried to cook as much as I could – and I did enjoy it – but somehow, since it ended, I have not wanted to make the least effort. I mean, it's not like I am always eating take-out, not at all. But I have not engaged in any real home cooking.

Why am I thinking of this? Well, I did just watch Julie and Julia – the movie which follows two story lines – one of Julia Child, and the other of blogger-turned- writer Julie Powell.

As I was writing the above lines, I realized why in a large part I have not cooked for so long now. I thought maybe it was due to laziness – which, mind you, I am prone to indulge myself in. But I think it's also because I have rented rooms in other people's places this whole past year since my break-up and moving out. Nice, hospitable places, and with kitchens, of course. But somehow, cooking when you live in a space not your own, feels a little wrong to me. Maybe it's also just an excuse, but it's true. It just doesn't resonate somehow.

I like films like that one, just as I like stories like that. It helps to be reminded that everyone who has accomplished anything was also human and at times was afraid, discouraged and rejected in some way. As I am spending these holidays here, in L.A., on the brink of finishing my album and a few other things, I have things to think about and plan. Where do I want to be, really, in a year's time? Where do I want to live? My time at the current place is running out, and I have to start thinking of my next step. Where is my home? Is it really where the heart is? And if so, where is my heart?

It doesn't help that as I was watching the film I got hungry and stuffed myself with some potato chips smeared with some ridiculous spread. Eek. They weren't that great, either.

Do you really create your own reality, after all, or is it just a catch phrase of the new age marketing? And if it isn't, then I have about a week and a half to gather myself, set up the canvas, focus and start painting a life I want and I hope to create for myself.