I made this drawing as an inspiration for myself for 2022. I hope it will inspire some of you, too — and perhaps even lead you to create your own image or words for the new year! I’d love to see them, if you do.
As the drawing shows, I hope to:
(1) Stay true to myself. I want to be grounded in the fundamentals that make me who I am and drive me to create, such as:
- finding and sharing joy in the beauty of nature, art, and language;
- showing, seeing, and inspiring genuine caring;
- fully embracing, celebrating, and upholding our many differences
(2) Believe. I want to believe myself worthy of being heard and capable of achieving my dreams.
(3) Reach and grow. I aim to grow in my craft through hard work on art and writing and the harder work of revision, including letting go of the good to reach for the great.
I’m lucky to be part of an amazing writing group called 12×12 that has helped me so much and will, I know, help me with my goals this year, too. It has wonderful webinars and tons of great information for aspiring writers and illustrators, and best of all it has a supportive community that’s super active in forums and critique groups.
Every December/January, the group has a yearly time of reflection and renewal. We revisit our surprises, successes, struggles and more to put our feet on the new year’s path with readiness, strength, and self-awareness. The image above was part of an assignment in that series, as is the piece I’m sharing here below.
For this task, we were asked to stretch our writing in new, fun ways by choosing the first line of any nearby book and then writing in a completely different direction. (It’s very fun — let me know if you try it, too!) I chose Moonshot by Brian Floca, a book our daughter loves about the Apollo 11 moon mission:
Here below is the Moon’s reflection. It is cold, yes, but not quiet. And it is definitely alive. One crisp autumn evening, as I gazed at Moon’s silver path on a small local lake, I said some words on a whim. “Moon, may I? May I walk down your road and see where it leads?” “Come,” a voice replied. I almost didn’t. I almost ran away, heart in my throat. But I decided instead to put just one toe into the lake. No cool wetness met me. Instead, my foot rested firmly on a surface as smooth and hard as glass. And lining the glowing road that stretched before me were trees of solid silver, garlanded in moonlight vines and moonlight blooms. This luminous lane stretched far beyond the lake’s shores to a place that I hope to know one day. But I turned back. Not a lot, just a little, but it was enough. I looked over my shoulder at the rental cottage behind me with its warm glow and I hesitated a moment. And fell into the lake with a frigid splash. I’ll try again tomorrow. -Carrie Schneider, 2022
My dreams, too, glitter like a silver moonpath. Sometimes all I see is the water too deep and cold for swimming. But if I believe I can tread that path, and I stop turning around to face comfort instead, I think I’ll make it to someplace wonderful!
I wish you all the best in 2022.
-Carrie Schneider
Carrie Schneider Author/Illustrator 