2017 was ... 2017.
It was universally referred to as "a dumpster fire."
Then my state caught on fire. Everything, everywhere, there was soot and ash. (Benefit: some nice sunsets.)
However, it felt like a metaphor made real; it's hard to be an optimist when everything is, quite literally, burning. (In a twist of Robert Frost's Fire and Ice poem, while the west coast is on fire, the east coast is encased in ice.)
Into all this, enter the phoenix, a bird who rises, renewed, from the ashes.
This year's holiday edition pulls from the full history and mythology of the phoenix, from the medieval Aberdeen Bestiary
to the eighteenth century London Encyclopedia
to the twentieth century poet May Sarton
As the complications of last year's holiday card were still fresh in my mind, and in the hope of timeliness, I drastically simplified the construction of this year's edition, and used a very basic cut-and-fold technique.
It's a great pattern for introductory book arts classes and turning monotypes and prints into little books; there are many online patterns and tutorials: here's one.
And, in the spirit of getting things done, I embraced the relative simplicity of the project, and have sent the phoenix flying through the postal system.
The stamps for the eclipse -- a cosmic death and rebirth cycle played out this year -- seemed most fitting for the bird who is born in flames.
For 2018, a wish for flourishing: creatively, personally, spiritually.
