30 huh?

Well, its official, I'm 30. Okay so truth be told i've been 30 for about (7) months now and i'm rapidly creeping  up on 31. Now don't get me wrong being 30 is not a bad thing; I'm happy to be aging, and in fact I wouldn't have it any other way. It's far better then being dead. My only issue is that I still, even in these almost 31 years, have no idea what I wanna be when I grow up. And when I think about it my mind goes into overload and just about shuts down.

So I'm sure that we as humans in general feel that way at times but I swear I feel so alone in this club. Can somebody else bring the dip next time? Or better yet, can somebody else pay our monthly dues? I'm kind of over it and just about broke. 

When I was a child I so badly wanted to be an artist and I was an artist. (a pretty darn good one, though not as good as i would like to have been) By the time I was in the second grade my art was chosen, along with a very select few, to be hung inside of a local museum in Los Angeles, California. And as an adult going through some of my mother's things years after she died, I found some of my old report cards and I came across a notation in one of them from my first grade teacher telling my mother that I  was a talented artist and could one day be an illustrator. How flattered I was reading her comments and how much more so would I have been had it been my own child. But at the same time upon reading it I was disappointed in my mother for not encouraging and nurturing me as she should have. I have two young girls of my own that are filled with talent and life. There's  no way on this earth that I would put their little lights out.

But my mother on the other hand wasn't exactly down with my artistic side. Instead she asked me what my real job was going to be, but not until after I shared with her how important it was for me to one day own my own gallery and invite the children of my community and other local artist to display their work and have the opportunity to feel as awesome as I did that day. Her being as supportive as she was that day (sarcasm) was probably one of the most pivotal moments of my life.   

You know, I could never seem to find an answer to the question she asked me that day, and shortly after i put away my pencil and pad for a few years. I've tried out so many things since then but nothing really stuck, in fact, everything else kind of sucked. My heart and passion is art and will always be art. Writing, drawing, sculpture, painting, crafts and most everything else that has to do with creative thought. The creative mind is so awesomely beautiful, how could i not love it. 

One thing that I truly regret is that fact that I allowed my mother's opinion about what I wanted to pursue in life stop me from pursuing it. If she were here right now i would hope that I would say without hesitation. "I am art. Hear me Blog."