What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

In 2012, it was when I stood up for myself. In 2011, it was a moment of clarity, sincere belief and friendship. In 2010, it was an action of commitment.

The stress of the trip was getting to me. The heat held me in its grasp, suffocating me. Headaches and hayfever plagued me in the days that I arrived in Istanbul. It went crazy the day of the protests. All I wanted to do was lay in the bed in the hotel room that was misrepresented in the website.

For the past few months, I had contacted professional fixers, friends, local food organizations, and local tour guides. Yet, I could not secure a single person that would help me the way I needed help. Partly, it was because of the budget.

Then two weeks before I arrived in Istanbul, I lamented to a friend of a friend in Bologna. She referred me to a friend who referred me to her friends in Istanbul. I met them on the first night, and they were willing to help me out with translation.

Then the protests happened. Magnetizing all the young educated Turks. How could I ask for a favor now? How could I finish my project? I kept texting everyone I knew through Whatsapp. “I can’t.” “I am sorry.” Essentially who cares about your project…about silly ice cream.

Then the day before I was about to depart, a friend messaged me, “I will be there.”

I was stunned. He had sent me photos wearing faux gas masks, the walls, and the angry people. He had said, “I have to go. They need me.”

And here he was, telling me that he was going to take a break to help me. To help me translate Turkish from an ice cream man. When I met the ice cream man first, he was so excited. Yet we could not communicate except smiling, laughing and gesturing.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I said to the friend afterwards.

He laughed, “I needed a break.”

From this, just like so many contrived movies and documentaries, it’s the kindness of strangers. I would like to say that ice cream binds people. But it’s the memory, the childhood nostalgia that bonds us.

How did you travel in 2013? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?

In 2012, I started the journey of a life and went to what I thought was unfathomable (in my life) — six domestic destinations and eight international destinations — for professional and personal reasons. In 2011, I went on one international trip, one domestic…and one super local. In 2010, I went on one international trip and multiple domestic trips.

In 2013, I traveled to:

Much less than before. Although this whole journey has made me a little less enamored with travel. But what next? I anticipate some extra trips to finish out the ice cream research (possibly). France? Japan? Portland? Another trip to Seattle? Some dairy destination? Then for some personal pleasures — will it be Hong Kong? Spain? The five boroughs ride in New York? Or perhaps I will be satisfied just being a homebody?

Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2013 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2013

2012 5 minutes, 2011 5 minutes, and 2010 5 minutes

When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?

In 2010, it was about dream making. In 2011, it was about sticking to my boundaries. In 2012, it was about being true.

“Intentions, not resolutions,” a writing workshops wrote in a new year’s email.

I have always been somewhat anti-resolution. The whole idea of “self-improvement” that isn’t achieved through clear goals. “You have to believe in it,” I explained to a friend today. “What’s the point of saying that you will lose pound per week if you don’t really quite believe in it yourself?”

So to really intend to change something…then to make an empty declaration.

Indeed, what is my next step?

I would say now is to embrace fear. I specifically said “embrace when encountered embarrassment.” Some would say that’s so vague. But I know that I have a passive attitude when overwhelmed by fear. To express it. To state it firmly. To let others hear it. Then decide what to do next.

What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

In 2010, I made xmas photo. In 2011, I made metaphorical things—that were intentionally symbolic of relationships and history. In 2012, I made ice cream.

Most recently (and the past few weeks), I have been making design. Or rather, designing for a great user experience in email and scheduling. The reason that I started down the journey of understanding ice cream makers was more because I wanted to understand the experience from another side. Rather, I wanted a break from the repetitive work of my professional career. A career that for some seems like magic, fun, and impactful. Yet, at times, I found it arduous, political, and pointless.

I was designing for the man.

But I took a short-term project recently. The team has let me do what I wanted to do—with my specific process and my particular demands. (And also too, I needed something to keep myself afloat.) What was so empowering was that I was creating again. I imagined an experience where email and scheduling would work seamlessly on mobile. Then I designed it, coming up with various screens to address primary use cases.

Like my writing, it’s a story of the process. A story of making each message come in with ease and understanding. With great empathy for the user’s context and needs. I think about what happens when a button is pressed. What displays on the screen next? What information needs to be accessible? What interface controls can help a user achieve the interaction needed? Is there enough hint? Is there an understanding of what will happen next? Does it all make sense?

Unlike a story, it’s partially about problem-solving. There’s no protagonist. There’s no beginning or end. It repeats. And for my job, for this making, I needed to make sense of all the moving parts within minutes.

So for 8 hours today and a few hours late yesterday, I created intensely one small component that very few people will notice. It’s the few people that drove me to want to write and create something substantial. But maybe, it’s the fact that this experience will be so valued by those few people that I keep coming back to this career over and over again.