When I was 17 I graduated High School. I stayed back in 1st grade due to a culmination of things such as an Autumn birthday (younger than most) and my inability to be kind to others
and mainly wandering off to the craft table, ignoring any and all instruction.
Keeping a 4 year old
back solves the problems at hand......
I had been overly ambitious to work and 'carry my weight' before I was old enough to work.
I was able to work at 15 and immediately started working once graduated.
When I was a 'kid' I wanted to
be an Artist. Nearly all of my classmates made plans, goals and stratergized for the glorious post graduation. I was constantly called into meditations and counseling with teachers, also therapists to discuss my personal strategies. When I would tell everyone that I wanted to be and Artist I was directed to courses and structured learning programs that had nothing to do with my personal goals.
In the graduating year book I got 2 out of 7
superlatives. I worked 4 years towards receiving the '
most artistic' title. I was dubbed both
Most Changed since 7th grade &
Most Original.
They saved the 'best eyes' category for the brainless
cheerleader. A care could be given that I had been the only one to
receive 2 of 7, fore I am not '
most artistic'.
Once I graduated sans plans to attend college I had moved into my 1st apartment and head first into full time employment at my 'job'. I worked diligently at said job all the while dreaming of my purpose and that was to be an Artist.
Tied up in a noose and Polo collared shirt while donning a name tag (dancing around for kids parties) seemed like a means to an end, I would save money while working towards becoming an Artist.
I had soon lost track of any school mates as they had all gone to college, moved or scooted their own way towards personal success. I had an opportunity via friend to move to New York City and use what little skills I had to manage a major Multimedia Art House and surely I was over my head. This would be one major lesson in the '
its all in who you know' department.
I made the leap and started managing successful Artists, facilitating a dream and in turn producing results for
them.
I have a high profile job at 20 but I want to be an Artist.
I radiate resentment strong enough to turn heads from the pulsating Macintosh machines. I would soon fail at holding this house of strictly right-brained individuals in harmony. I would soon pack up and go home.
Fast forward many years of menial jobs as constant as my dreams of grandeur to be an Artist.
I would soon meet an individual who ushered me into a position in the city again, a position managing a successful Professional Photographer. My job had become nearly effortless because I was facilitating the dream of an established, college educated and hard working professional Artist.
Once again the dreaded pattern emerges, resentment was thick, a visible cloud of disparity emanating from me at all times. My relationships failed. My goals out of reach and worse of all.... my health is failing due to emmence depression, anxiety and utter hopelessness. A complete lack of fulfillment.
I make a phone call. I pack my bags again. I leave.
With a pat on the shoulder from my Artist employer who with regret to his personal organizer and 'left brain' as it were, I am on my way out the door. ''Damn he will miss me''.
Before I go I am to receive a parting gift.
I am handed a Black bag and loosely, nonchalantly told:
''Take this and use it, you have more use for it than I do right now. In return I want you to write me a letter and create a plan on how you are going to use this or it will no longer be yours, its that simple.''
When I opened the gifted bag my Heart sunk. I walked onto the train out of the Studio for my goodbyes.
I had donated half my possessions, ditched my car (literally), bought a one way plane ticket for a 3,000 mile destination in which I had never been. I had a couch to sleep on, 2 suitcases, $400.00 cash/no reserve and an NIKON SLR CAMERA in a Black bag... I do have a plan.
Shortly after I get a position in a Fine Art studio in LA, managing and facilitating the
dreams for Professional Artists. Amongst my peers I am recognized for being such and while my day job what just that, I was building my own reputation in a city of
Sharks. My diligence paid off.
I was given more than an expensive gift, menial to the giver and which I could never have afforded to buy.
I was given the opportunity, support and tools to
be the artist I am.
It wasnt until this time I realized as clear as day that I came into this world an Artist. I will exist in this world as an Artist.
I will no longer facilitate others dreams only to neglect my own because I am in fact, a Professional Artist.
The years of resentment and 'failure' that I will have to struggle at
working and never become
something had surely taken a toll. You become weary and utterly enfeebled once you choose to believe your
purpose is out of reach. You become your thoughts. You choose the direction you go and not the high school counselors or Chuck E Cheeze Manager.
Years later my prized camera may not be the newest on the market but I can keep my head above water in the ocean of Sharks.
I am an Artist.
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
-Dr. Suess
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