|Moleskine watercolor sketchbook number 1, page 1, November 21, 2011|
As a child, I always wanted to be an artist someday. I had no clear idea of what that meant and no one nearby who understood it enough to guide me toward my goal. Did it mean making a living as an artist someday? Did it mean I would create a lot of artwork when I grew up? Did it mean that some day in the future others would call me an artist? The whole idea was a good, defining dream inspite of its vagueness. I've struggled with the questions my whole life. I assumed I couldn't make a decent living as an artist until I was better at it and had a good portfolio and that I would never have time or reason to produce a body of artwork until I experienced more of life. I've questioned whether I had a life worth drawing. I was caught in a vicious cycle that kept me from being what I always dreamed of being. Now I realize I should just draw my life, past and present, even if it doesn't always seem worth it. I have been an artist all these years, even though I've produced very little artwork. I see the world as an artist. I have to work hard to see it any other way. I wish it had not taken me so long to realize that back when I wanted to be an artist someday, I was one already. I'm starting an art journal--something I wish I had been doing my whole life. Above is the image on the first page of what I hope will be many pages and books to come.