giving back

My cousin Stuart wrote a wonderful blog recently about a book called The Boxcar Children (see Sept. 29). Stu starts the blog by mentioning that he owes a debt of gratitude to the writer, who managed to capture the interest of his son who, up to that point, had shown little interest in reading. And when I think about it, I feel the same way...I am so grateful to all of the artists, musicians, writers and filmmakers who have moved me in one way or another over the years.

For too long, I have been a passive consumer, content to read the books, watch the movies, and listen to the music. It's ironic, because when I was younger, one of my favorite things to do was draw. I could entertain myself for hours drawing - mostly airplanes, rockets, and spaceships. And, what's more, I *loved* art class. Some of my most vivid memories from elementary school involve art projects I was especially proud of, like the purple mountain I painted in fifth grade, or the linocut of Mario (from Mario Brothers) when I was in seventh. I also had quite an opinion about what I liked and didn't!

Looking back, it seems obvious that art was going to play a major role in my life somehow. But then, at some point, I discounted the possibility that art could translate into a career - I think it was around eighth grade. I haven't spent too much time thinking about why this happened, although I can speculate: no-one actively encouraged me to think in those terms; I didn't personally know any artists or musicians who could serve as a role model; I had friends my age who I considered more talented (One of my friends, Jim, had a preternatural ability to draw airplanes in glorious detail, and he made the most amazing, imaginative things out of legos. He had what Howard Gardner would consider "spatial intelligence" in spades (Gardner being the author of Multiple Intelligences). Jim also happened to be a huge ass most of the time. But a very talented ass! I was, needless to say, green with envy.

It wasn't until graduate school - when I decided to pursue a career as a museum curator - that I decided I could make a living by studying art, taking care of it, and sharing it with others. This was my compromise with myself - my way of involving myself in the art world, but in a scholarly, "serious" way. I didn't think of it in those terms, of course. At the time, I thought I was pursuing my dream. But only a few years after graduating from KU, I realized that I had misjudged myself (what a bad feeling that is). My passion did not lie in studying art (even though I loved it), or working in a museum. It was *doing* it - actively participating in the creative process. It took me several more years to own up to this realization and give up my job at ExhibitsUSA.

I'm disappointed that it took me so long to figure this out. And I'm still not making a living by being creative. However, I do get my fix on the side with photography, web page design, and even this blog. I know now that it's not about making a living (although that would be nice, and I still consider going back to school for graphic design or architecture). Rather, it's about giving back to the world. That was Stu's conclusion on how we repay our debts to the artists and writers we love. I totally agree. This perspective is incredibly liberating for someone like me. So it seems I owe a debt of gratitude not only to all those artists and writers, but to Stu as well.

I also realize, in reading Stu's entries, how lopsided and self-centric (is that a word?) my life is...the life of a 36 year old bachelor. No wife, no kids, no house. I am blessed with my family and friends, of course, and I do not mean to belittle their place in my life. But I also feel restless...I'm ready to get married and, God willing, have a family. I sincerely hope that it happens someday - hopefully sooner rather than later - but I also recognize that I'm still single, at least in part, because I've made some poor choices in the past *and* I'm very picky. It's true. I admit it. Not sure where that leaves me now, but I do have faith that I get what I need when I need it. How's that for optimism? :-)