My graphic design program has come to an end. But I am still slogging away—finishing the portfolio I missed out on completing when I left town for 6 weeks to teach in the summer. I love what I am doing. I have new tools to stretch the boundaries of my creativity. New tools that constantly change and shift in a digital world that evolves at lightening speed. My working life has always been in flux. Unstable. And now what I am searching for is stability and sustainability. A place to root myself so I can grow. I'm dazzled by the array of intimidating jobs and the seemingly effortlessness with which the proficient designers wield their craft. Every day I do battle with my demons who tell me I'm not good enough. Every day I fight despair as I watch my debts mounting. I try to stay focused and just do my work. According to Steven Pressfield who wrote an amazing book called The War of Art, the most difficult part of the journey is at the end when the prize is in sight. I am on my way home and this time I will let nothing stand in my way.

My inner critic constantly bombards me with messages that make me feel incompetent and unworthy. No matter what I achieve he cleverly sneaks into my consciousness and tells me that I didn't do anything to deserve praise. I am an imposter. I do not belong. I will be found out.

On rare occasions, as he lunges at me with his quiver full of poison darts, I catch him before the deed is done. Sometimes I am able to protect myself by running away. It never occurred to me that perhaps this gremlin, as I refer to him, offers me a glimpse into myself. He tells me the thing I most afraid of--the thing I have the most resistance around. Resistance almost always guards the door to greatness. Instead of running away, what would happen if I face the dragon head on and do the thing he says I can never do.

Maybe he's telling me where the treasure is hidden.

My boyfriend commented that by my own admission Miss Canadiana was a fluke. He's right. It IS a fluke. My job as an artist is to recognize the flukes. To value them as a gift from the divine. To step out of their way. To nurture them so they can come into being.

Through this project I have learned so much about myself -- about life. It has taken me into places I'd never dreamt I'd go to and I've spoken with people who otherwise would never have listened to what I had to say. I am infinitely grateful that this fluke has chosen me as its vessel.

September always makes me feel like I should be starting something new. This year I toyed with the idea of accepting the spot I was offered in the graduate program at York. I almost did.

I stood amongst people half my age, their shiny faces full of hope. But as always, I found myself challenging the bureacracy. I have little patience for boundaries and rules that try to contain and categorize me without knowing or caring who I am.

Now I am back in the graphic/web design program I started at the beginning of the year. It is much more intense than I anticipated. I love it.

Life has a way of doubling back on itself. I am traveling through familiar territory glimpsed from a distance in another life. I am studying in a full-time graphic design program. This was to be my contingency plan. I thought I would do this while I made plans for my real life. But I was crushed when I received a rejection letter from the graduate program I had hoped would play a pivotal role in my future. I have been offered a spot in another grad program but I realize I'm enjoying where I am.

Today I found out a friend died. He was so full of life. So full of wonder and reverance and joy. I had the pleasure of presenting his work and getting to know him. He always included me in his emails to tell his friends what he's up to. He came to town. I didn't go to see him. He invited me to his birthday party. I did not attend. I was always busy. Maybe in some other future I would find time. Well, time ran out and I wish I could dance with you and laugh with you and celebrate your ninety plus years on the planet. Juan, you are an inspiration. You've taught me to pay attention to the little things that big things are made of.

Its 2009. A brand new year. I've been dealt a blow lately—bad news about my health and I'm going through difficult financial times. Not a great hand to play. I have learned that I have incredibly supportive people in my life. And I know that in the dark days ahead, I need to stay in the light and turn towards the positive. I need an anchor bigger than myself, bigger than the challenges I will face this year.

I've been thinking about Joy. Its my middle name and I've always loved it. Such a simple word. Such a wonderful and contagious state.

Looking back on my life, I realize that I've been cautious. I have never fully embraced what I love. I've given in to the voices inside and out that contradict what I feel. I've lived on the fence, in the margins, not in the driver's seat.

This year I am ready to throw caution to the wind, declare my committment to joyfulness and really live. Happy 2009! May your life be full of Joy.

“Live life so completely that when death comes to you like a thief in the night, there will be nothing left for him to steal.”