I have a purpose today. I realize that my life’s purpose is to create, to look out at the world with open eyes and find that which is most beautiful to me, in order to interpret it in such a way that others may share my vision. In saying this out loud, I make myself vulnerable. For years, I said, “who am I, to think my vision is worth something, that I have something to offer, that the world wants to hear what I have to say?” For decades, I was told that I used too many words, or that the words were too long, or that I gave too many twisted ins and outs when I explained anything from how to bake a pie to how to write a thesis or dye a pound of wool in a jar.
Now, as I stand at the long end of the telescope, looking down the years, I realize that despite all of these voices, I have emerged stronger, better, and true to my own artistic vision. It’s ok to be doing what I love. It’s all right to be happy. It’s a good thing to have so many different things that I do. There is nothing wrong with digging ditches in the morning and speaking at a curated exhibition in the evening.
To anyone out there that walks by their sewing room or art studio or writing desk and looks away from the partially open door because you think you should be doing something else, or that you aren’t good enough, or that other people have done it already or better, I say to you, not so. The desire to follow your artistic vision means that within you is that spiritual connectedness to making that has been part of the human condition since Paleolithic hunters blew charcoal dust around their hands at Peche-Merle.
I look forward to this year of fostering connections and working with people both in my studio and virtually.