2015 was the year things began to morph into solid shape. I had blood on my hands. It was the type one does not get arrested for. A child came knocking asking that he calls me daddy. I gladly obliged. 2015 was the year I squeezed ideas in my hands, formed them into rough balls and did some practice shooting into the waste bin. It was the year I also went back to scavenge through the refuse to see what I could find and recycle into desirable form.
It’s not a year I will forget in a jiffy. There were many firsts there. This blog is one of such and I guess I owe Paul a drink for arguing out why this needed to be available for public consumption asides from what I had hoped for. Time will tell if he was right with his suggestion and if I did the right thing embracing it.
Right now, I hear a loud thud in my heart. 2016 is the year my risk appetite rises again. I’m excited at what is capable of happening especially since I understand that it’s ultimately about the decisions we make and how we execute them.
It’s a good time to be alive.