The enthusiasm of youthful artists is really something. I can see the spark of amusement in the eyes of older artists when I talk to them. Sometimes… I am the older artist, and let me tell you – that’s a trip.
I think it’s somewhere on at least one of my social media taglines that I am a “Student of Life”. This is true. When I walked away from formal academia with my BA in hand, I had absolutely no intention of ceasing my education. I was just going to go about it on my own terms.
So I have… and I have had tremendous support while doing so.
Family and friends are all deeply interested and understanding as I pursue one bunny trail after another. This artistic discipline, that writing project, or, oh my, is that the stack of books you’re currently reading? Yes. Yes, it is.
My mother has even gone so far as to say that this period of my life is basically going for my Master’s degree. I just don’t have to pay an institution for it, either. And I can use that money for field trips.
Like. To Paris. This fall.
I’ve often espoused that achieving goals isn’t done by dreaming up things and chasing after them, but by building the dream brick by brick until it’s standing, real and concrete, in front of you. I still hold to this, and probably always will, but I tend to be so busy laying bricks that I forget to look down and realize just how many I’ve got.
That’s usually when a younger artist asks me a question about a foundational brick, one that I’ve recited to myself a dozen times to build into the higher echelons of that particular dream, and I get a little dizzy at the height below my toes.
Keep building, you crazy artists, you writers, you believers. Because you’re building to the stars, and I want to ask how you got there.