At the start of a New Year one sets out a certain aesthetic of beauty that one wants to think oneself into during the next few months of the year. One recalibrates all one’s settings, so one can start the New Year beautifully and perfectly. Living precisely by the aesthetic one chooses. Events always waylay these beautiful intentions and one ends up god knows where, and by summer one is already completely lost in several different messy diversions at once, and one curses the lost map and compass that one set out with, with such beautiful intentions, back on January 1st. One prepares a new plan of action for oneself. Will I be aiming myself more at theatre this year, or cinema? Comedy or tragedy? Opera or concerts? I always need to start with a rough plan. Re-order my priorities to get my bearings again. When one is free, out of work, with all one’s time to oneself, it is very easy to drift, so it is all the more important to be sure of one’s map, compass, and bearings, not to mention destination, before one starts off on January 1st.
The Stripper 