No.193. Janus.
He never could bring himself to party on New Year's Eve. He much preferred to consign himself to his studio and paint right through the Auld Lang Syne night until the dawn. This New Year's picture formed itself into a massive self-portrait--or rather a double self-portrait. The trouble was the "new" portrait seemed just as fierce and dissolute as the "old" one. So much for the benediction of New Year's Resolve. Are we really doomed to repeat ourselves? And never to struggle out of prediction?

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