I had a dream at age 5. When people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up I'd always reply; An artist. I knew it then, in my heart, that I was an artist.
Giraffe rock painted for a friend |
My mother disagreed.
Let's remember my mother grew up during the depression. She saw the worse of it and although her father always had a job times were lean and the man she married wasn't so lucky. My father came from a family of 12 children. Only 6 survived to adulthood. He quit school in the 6th grade to work to help support the family yet he was one of the smartest people I've ever known. I think it bothered him that he lacked even a grammar school education, but I know that had he been given opportunities, he would have gone far. He was kind and fair. His family was tough as nails, they had to be to survive with 12 kids and little money during those times.
Anyway, my mother said, "Artist don't make any money, pick something else."
Always the good little girl I believed my mother and wandered most of my life looking for that something else. I've worked retail, as a dental assistant, bartender, office manager, more retail, waitress, election clerk, sales manager, marketing director, human resource director, etc. I just floated from job to job as the opportunity arose and never really felt fully satisfied. Some were more interesting than others, some challenging (I loved the challenging jobs) and some were frustratingly boring. None touched my passion. Marketing came close, but the place where I worked was micro managed so it had limitations.
I wrote some books. Got a few more almost done. Yes, writing is in my heart, too, but I guess it's just another kind of art. A few books up on Amazon and really should get the others up soon. Working on that!
I wrote for the confession mags before they went under. Loved those stories.
Now at age 61? My kids moved 900 miles away. Let's face it, New Jersey is a hard state to start out in. They got out and I'm glad they did. Both bought their own homes and built a life. I missed them terribly. It was decision time.
My husband and I started investigating our options. If we moved down to be closer to them what could we do? How about our own business?
So here we are in Florida. No, not to retire. We are starting our own business and yes, it involves art. (More on this later.) Right now we're in a kind of limbo doing the prep work for our new biz while living with my youngest daughter. I miss having my own home. Hey! This is the first time in over 30 years I didn't have my own house to take care of. But things here are going good. We're crazy busy getting this off the ground and since we're starting from the bottom up it's going to take months to get from leases & lawyers through the build-out process to the Grand Opening.
For a while I felt a little panicked. What have we done? Sold our home, left everything we ever knew and now we're ... homeless? Then I go back and think;
You're never to old to set a new goal or dream a new dream.
Family Tree painted for a friend. |
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