2026: A Wild Rabbit Year

This evening, as I was walking home with our New Yearโ€™s feast from Lotus Express Chinese restaurant, one of our wild city rabbits hopped out from a driveway and down the sidewalk in front of me.

North American cottontails donโ€™t dig burrows. They get through the winter outdoors, sheltering in bushes and under porches. This one was certainly on its way home to some preferred back yard where it knows it has a secure place to keep warm tonight and something for breakfast in the morning. As long as I didnโ€™t try to mess with it in the malicious way of those humans who think othersโ€™ discomfort is funny, it seemed content to share the sidewalk with me. So we lolloped along together for half a block. I lost sight of it when it rounded the corner ahead of me. It must have cut up another driveway to get behind the houses. 

I hope it was heading for our yard. We have the most trees and shrubs, thanks to my ambitious but overworked landlords. An accidental rewilding project.

I took this as a good omen. A rabbit-rabbit-rabbit charm, even if the moon is not yet full.

Rabbits symbolize fertility (obviously) and by extension prosperity. Theyโ€™re survivors who thrive against ridiculous odds. Tiny and fragile, they will throw hands (paws) without hesitation when threatened or just pissed off. Omg, those little hooligans will come at you with intent. I just love them.

So I presume to take this rare winter encounter as a good sign for 2026. Confirmation of a feeling Iโ€™ve been having.

A headline from one of the 2025 wrap-up articles I have set aside to read later says, โ€œThis year ended better than it started.โ€

I agree. Granted, the landscape is still rolling dumpster fires as far as the eye can see, and if I were betting on it, Iโ€™d say 2026 will get worse before it gets better.

But for the first time in a long time, I have the feeling it will get better, maybe even quicker than expected.

Thereโ€™s no particular event that makes me think this. Itโ€™s more a shift of energy. A societal mood swing. A ripple in the zeitgeist. A sense that people have had enough of this shit.

Which shit? All of it. All the 10,000 shits. 

A sketch of rabbits fighting in the spring.
When first you see the full moon’s light,
Say “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” thrice
For a month of fortune, joyous and bright.

I know Iโ€™ve had enough. My list of Things Iโ€™m Done With is long. Iโ€™m done with billionaires and maga, with marketing and media, with all the corporate shenanigans and snake oil. Just frikkin done.

And Iโ€™m done with a lot of myself, too. With old bad habits. (I need new ones!) With my waffling and procrastination, with half-assing my way through problems. With being so deep in the weeds, I have no idea where Iโ€™ve come to in my life. With my utter and complete disorganization.

When it comes to changing for the better, nothing just happens. You have to do it, and nobody does anything until theyโ€™re ready. Until they feel like it. Thatโ€™s when they make their move. Thatโ€™s when they quit smoking, change parties, leave that job, take that class, get out and vote, blow the whistle, clean their house.

2025 was horrible. No argument. I donโ€™t need to go over it all here. If you follow me, then you probably also follow the news. Itโ€™s been a historically horrible year.

But as of this writing, on December 31st, 2025, We the People are not the ones freaking out and trying desperately to cover our asses. I wonโ€™t say weโ€™ve taken control of the narrative just yet, but we have a grip on it, which is more than we had a year or even six months ago. It took us a whole year, but we finally have the ground under our feet again.

So despite skyrocketing costs, economic chaos, political violence, and a latter-day Nero fiddling with the White House as the dumpsters burn, I will take that little rabbit as a lucky charm. 

An omen of success against the odds, of building happiness by thinking quick, adapting to the circs, making do, creating a lot, and not being afraid to get into the fight when needed.

Thriving in 2026 might not look the way we expect, but lifeโ€™s too short to be long about the forms of it. Whatever comes, I know we can make the most of it.

Iโ€™ll put that up over my desk as a motto for the year. โ€œWhatever it is, make the most of it.โ€

Naturally, I have big plans, but I make no promises now. Between the world and the dramas weโ€™ve survived, we are embracing a lot of change here at the studio and attached apartment, so I have no idea what Iโ€™ll do or when. Iโ€™ll just say my focus in 2026 will be on experimenting with new-to-me forms and media. There are skills I want to learn, and skills I learned the past couple of years that will get new uses and presentations. Some of you might not be into it, but some might like it better. I hope everyone will find something good here. But however it goes, 2025 is ending with happy outcomes we couldnโ€™t have foreseen. I intend to make good on it.

And I hope you can find your own inner wild city rabbit this year, as well. Find the resources you need, whatever form they come in. Throw down and thrive. And when the odds are against you, ignore them. Winners donโ€™t bet against themselves.

Happy New Year, everyone!
Letโ€™s get into it.

Note: This essay contains 928 words, which according to western numerology, reduces to 10 and then to 1. So do the numerals of 2026. In tarot, 10 is the number of the Wheel of Fortune, and 1 is the number of The Magician. Interpretation: 2026 is a chance for us to direct our fate. I might write more about this at a later date.


Some of the work I did in 2025.

Happy Year of the Wood Dragon 2024

A dragon in a thicket, An Alchemy of Dragons, Ch. 2


Happy lunar new year, everyone! I hope your winter has been cozy and all is well with you and yours as the Year-Beginning Season comes to its close.

I love that the universe gives us three chances to start every new year over the whole winter. We get the solar new year at the Winter Solstice, the astronomical new year at Earth’s perihelion in the first week of January, and now the lunar new year, which was celebrated yesterday.

Considering how dragged out many of us were in December and January, getting to count February as an additional start is especially welcome.

However, proceed with caution. 2024 is the year of the dragon, which is a double-edged sword. If you were born in a dragon year, it’s all good, but if you were born under a different sign, you’d better check your auspices. Rabbit-year folks like me, for instance, are advised to look both ways crossing the street, stay out of fights, take our vitamins, and generally behave like smart little bunnies.

I’ve checked Chinese astrology, western astrology, and western numerology, and overall, they all promise a year of great change and a mixed bag of challenges and opportunities. So … yeah, looking at what’s on our plates already, buckle up, kids. It’s going to be a ride.

That’s why I chose the illustration above as my greeting to you. That dragon was in quite the tangle in An Alchemy of Dragons, Ch. 2, but our protagonist, Erran, was able to use the brambles to make his escape. In real life, thickets are nurseries where new forests are born. They offer traps for some and havens for others. Little critters who learn the ins and outs are safe in there. They can find everything they need – food, water, shelter – and come and go as they please. Blundering clods like hunters, on the other hand, can barely get in, and if they force their way, they’ll have a job getting out again.

I think that’s appropriate for this year.


I’m sure you noticed that it’s been another while since you heard from me. I’m doing the stuff, but I can’t quite decide how I want to present it to you.

New small paintings are coming to the shop soon.

I’ve been reworking the structure of the Alchemy of Dragons serial, which may require adding material and reorganizing the chapters again, but I am very pleased with what I’ve got. I had been using the wrong plotting system, and the deeper into the story I got, the harder it was to plan what should come next in the telling of it. Putting together a system that works for me became my main winter project, and I feel like I’m on a much better track now. I’m as optimistic as I ever get.

Video and audio experiments are also in progress. Watch this space for further news on those.

Finally, just about all my online tools need refreshing. Figuring out the best options is an ongoing puzzle. There will be tweaks to the website arrangement, the newsletter, Patreon, and subscriptions. Nothing shocking, but hopefully some functional improvements, like my writing system.


I have a feeling a lot of us have been gnawing things over in our burrows all this winter, but the celestial clocks have turned, and the new season is just about here. Yes, in damp, icy Massachusetts, we just got another winter storm advisory for next week, but the days are undeniably longer and brighter. Buds are developing on trees, the backyard birds are already starting to sing and pair up, and I started spring cleaning today.

So Happy New Year!

Jen, a rabbit in a dragon year.

-Jen

Wishing you all a Happy New Year for 2023

I buy into the old superstition that whatever you find yourself doing on New Year’s Day will set the tone for the whole year to come. So I make sure I spend every New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day doing just want I want to do and nothing else. Generally, this consists of being in my studio, in my pajamas, with a cup of something caffeinated, some music playing, doing creative work.

Which is exactly what I’m doing right now – working on An Alchemy of Dragons. I just took a short break to post this note to my readers and friends.

I made a quick check of the auspices, and it seems my instincts are in track, at least for the start of 2023. See, we’ve all been through a lot of changes – both setbacks and advances – and I’ve had a hell of a time coming up with resolutions, plans, all that sort of thing. So I’ve decided that, for me, 2023 is going to be a year of figuring things out. Analyzing trends. Taking stock of changes and new contexts. Choosing where to go next, and picking how I want to get there.

And it turns out the divinatory signs agree with me.

Numerology says 2023 boils down to the number 7, a number of deep analysis and the search for wisdom, of questioning, examining, thinking things through, making decisions.

In Tarot, the 7th card of the Major Arcana, the Chariot, signifies the force of will joined with action, the path forward, doing our best with what we have, guided by what’s within us.

The 7’s of the Minor suits are similarly suggestive. The 7 of Pentacles is the nervous optimism of the farmer devoting labor now for future goals, setting aside anxieties to nurture his work. The 7 of Swords encourages us to grab opportunities when we find them, while being cautious of distracting blather out in the world. Don’t be shy, but don’t get too tricky at the same time. The 7 of Wands promises success if we stick to our principles and put in the work, no matter how daunting. And the 7 of Cups shows us all the options open to us. The challenge is to think before we choose.

Finally, the Chinese lunar new year on January 22 will usher in the Year of the Rabbit, predicted to start a period of relative calming and growth – a good time to approach our plans with optimism tempered by patience and planning.

Are things guaranteed to be easier? No. But I have a feeling this could be a better year, if we make it so. I feel like 2023 is one of those starting-a-new-chapter kind of years – a chance for us to stock of where the past few years have brought us, what real options we have on hand, and what suits us best in our lives right now.

Personally, I’m looking forward to it.

So in keeping with the holiday, I raise a figurative glass from me to you. Happy New Year!

Merry meet and merry part, I drink to you with all my heart.

jfries-alchemy-ch-2-old-ram-10.6.22
Illustration from An Alchemy of Dragons, Ye Olde Ram tavern

It’s been a minute and a year

JFries doves border 1.28.21

Hello, all. Iโ€™m back after one of my long, unannounced absences, and Iโ€™m afraid I return with sad news. 

Our beloved cat, Leah, has died after more than a year battling cancer. The disease turned aggressive in late November, and she passed in early January, at home with us by her side. She was 17 years old. Sheโ€™d had a rough as a captured feral cat in shelters before coming to our home some 13 years ago, but despite her post-traumatic phobias and neuroses, she was the sweetest, most caring and quietly affectionate creature you could imagine. Beautiful, small, delicate, she was our fairy princess, and few things could make us happier than to see her content and purring. We all miss her so much.

Immediately after our personal loss, of course, That Insurrection Thing happened. As you know, we are a rather political gang in the apartment attached to the studio, so it was a bit all-consuming to watch, in a state of grief, as a bunch of racists and fascists tried to overthrow the US government live on tv, and all the ripples that spread from that.

Also, covid-19.

Altogether, not a good time, and I hope you will understand that I havenโ€™t done, said, or thought a single thing worth telling you about in over two months.

But tonight is the first full moon of 2021, and I am officially restarting the year as of now. 

Am I all healed up and ready to rock? Nope. I am tired, and foggy, and sad, my plans are a jumbled mess, and my calendar is mostly blank. But the fascists failed, and the days are getting longer, and I do feel just a little more … possible than I did just two weeks ago. Itโ€™s a flimsy straw, but Iโ€™m grasping it. In the past two days, Iโ€™ve started a new sketchbook for the year. Iโ€™m planning my garden. Iโ€™m gradually, baby-step KonMari-ing this whole place (ye gods, Iโ€™ve got a lot of stuff), and sorting it all out is giving me a ton of new ideas. Somehow, I feel vaguely like I can start moving again.

Where does this thin trickle of unexpected energy come from? Maybe the moon. Januaryโ€™s Ice Moon is ushering in a wave of snow storms and a deep freeze here in scenic Somerville, and I do feel as if those gusts of wind are blowing away the last, clinging dregs of 2020. You know, psychologically.

So, belatedly, happy New Year. I hope you are all warm and keeping well and looking forward to better days. I make no warranties or representations for what 2021 will bring from my studio, or when, or how. I offer no schedules or projects on deck. No promises = no apologies, thatโ€™s my motto for the moment.

So letโ€™s just go forth, as it were, and see what emerges, shall we?


Winter 2020/2021 Photo Journal

JFries december merganser 1.28.21
JFries mourning dove 1.28.21
JFries moth 2 1.28.21
JFries moth 1 1.28.21
JFries moths in progress 1.28.21
JFries sketch #1 1.28.21
JFries January 2021 Ice Moon 1.28.21

In Memoriam: Leah the Bedea, Our Princess, forever loved.

JFries Leah 4.11.19

Happy New Year – Itโ€™s the Roaring Twenties!

JFries leaves banner 12.31.19

Tomorrow dawns the 2020s, and I realized that exactly 100 years ago, the 19th Amendment became part of the US Constitution, and American women got the vote.

The parallels between then and now are uncanny. We were talking it over at dinner this evening. In addition to giving women the vote, the 1920s saw the rise of extreme political and religious beliefs, overweening morality laws and backlashes against them, social and political grassroots organization, massive advances in science and technology with accompanying benefits and abuses, domestic and international terrorism, a great flowering of arts and intellectualism, and fundamental, permanent changes in the ways people lived day to day. In the wake of WW1, it was a decade of no going back to the old conformist pantomimes of class and propriety of the 1890s and 1910s. We can debate whether it was good or bad, but it was truly a revolutionary decade.

Iโ€™m pretty sure our 20s will be revolutionary too, with climate change crashing into us, the return of extreme ideologies, science racing forward, and all of us facing the challenges of a shifting world. One way or another, I think we are all going to change our lives forever. I think there will be a lot of ideas to express. Who knows, but we might even finally settle some of the fights we started way back then.

Itโ€™s scary but also exciting. Maybe Iโ€™m just itching to mix it up with the world. Maybe Iโ€™m tired of the same old same-old. I canโ€™t help it – Iโ€™m an Aquarius. We like new things. We live for tomorrow.

But tonight, I say farewell to the 2010s. Here is the last of my final project of the decade, the East Somerville Trees collages – preserved memories of autumn under our urban canopy, part of the Botanicals and Cities series. It’s about the things that really matter in the midst of all the changes.

These are destined for a book, so be on the lookout for updates on that.

Happy New Year!

New Year, New Look, New Work – Happy!

white pine 12.2018
White Pine, 2018. I’m taking a lot more photos these days.

Happy New Year!

Welcome to the new and improved, shiny and fresh Jen Fries Arts website for 2019. Naturally, itโ€™s still in progress, with more to come throughout January. But it is open for reading, viewing, and commenting as of this first day of the new year.

What has changed?

Pages: Youโ€™ll notice some of my pages are gone. This is only temporary as content is being updated with better images and new projects. Look for more pages coming soon as well, including online projects.

Navigating: All of the information about me is now found under the Home tab in the site menu, including About, Contact, and the Dedication to my late founding partner, Gomez Addams. Thereโ€™s also a spiffy new FAQ page, since so much of what I do makes hardly any sense. Feel free to send me questions. If they are asked frequently enough, theyโ€™ll get added to the page.

Site Title: โ€œInstant Elixir Cures Allโ€ is only temporarily out of sight. It is evolving into the name/title/imprimatur of a new venture. Follow and/or visit often to keep up to date.

Update Schedule: Iโ€™m shooting for an update every ten days or so this year. I know I donโ€™t have an excellent record that way, but the times they are a-changing and so, hopefully, will my habits. Itโ€™s the new year, people – resolutions and all that.

Exciting Plans: I am fairly champing at the bit for the work on my calendar this year, including:

Writing: I will integrate my writing with my artwork in this site. Look for books, challenges, and prompts, as well as illustrated projects.

That Dollhouse I Was Building All Last Year: Is finally becoming something. Iโ€™m so up about this one. Wait till you see what Iโ€™m doing. Look for progress reports as we go.

Learning and Sharing: I was stretching my wings a bit in 2018, and Iโ€™m eager to share in 2019 what Iโ€™ve been learning about printmaking, wildlife spotting, and home-made art supplies.

And so much more…

Please enjoy the new site. As I say, itโ€™s under construction, so if you find any errors, broken links, etc., please let me know. One thing I know isnโ€™t working at the moment is the email account, but please use the Blog comments to chat, correct, or critique, until that gets fixed.

Thanks, everyone. I wish you all the best. Letโ€™s have fun this year. I think we deserve it.

And here’s a hello from my two studio Assistants:

Studio Assistant Leah
Senior Assistant Leah. She looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth,
but we know better.
Studio Assistant Scipio
Junior Assistant Scipio. Chair of the Staff Morale Committee.

First art of 2018, journal and mushrooms

I heard somewhere once, many years ago, that at a certain latitude, if the sky is clear and you look due north at an unobstructed horizon, at the stroke of midnight on New Yearโ€™s night, you will see Sirius, Orionโ€™s dog, at its apogee, with winterโ€™s Orion setting to the west of it, and his mortal enemy, springโ€™s Scorpio rising to the east of it, and the two constellations will be equidistant above the Earth. So the story of Orion the Hunter, lover of Artemis, killed by the poisoned sting of Hera’s scorpion, marks the passage of winter and the new year.

I donโ€™t know if this is true, but I think it should be, and already, the sun is setting a little later, havenโ€™t you noticed?

This little journal collage is my first artwork of 2018. I’m calling it The Future of Orion, inspired by this video from the European Space Agency: Youtube Link.

The little snippet of text is my New Year’s dinner fortune cookie message. “Your fate is in no one else but you, in no hands but yours.”

Plus, I made some little crumpled-paper mushrooms – my first attempts – out of napkins. Super ephemeral, but I rather like them. I’ll play with these a bit more.

Happy New Year!