Growing up I found that I lost most of myself and became someone new. It was a good feeling, until three voices spoke to me.
One telling me what I should do the other is overthinking how to make my dream come true. The third one screaming doubts because I’m thirty going on nine.
The Top Three
Since my youngest years, I’ve been creating stories and drawings that first looked like a bunch of lines pointing toward nowhere. A few years later, helped by my mother and desire to draw as good as my heroes, I began developing confidence.
I won a few drawing contests, some I got bronze medals while for others were silver and gold. I made it a goal for myself to always be in the top three so I wouldn’t know defeat. Along with my quest I faced plagiarism accusations that were proven wrong, and I’ve also met others my age that I positively envied for their talent that was greater than mine.
What I mean by positively envied was my desire to meet them the year that would fallow and be closer to their achievement as I knew by reading about the greatest Renaissance artists that you can never be a complete artist as there is always room for learning.
Learning to draw is like learning to walk, at first you crawl and quickly realize you have to keep looking forward not to hit a wall. Then, you get up and discover that you can only walk by doing one step at a time.
You fall, you hurt yourself, you try to climb and fall back again. Then, the moment you realize all is geometrical shapes, it hits you, and you run, down the road, you’ll stumble and fall again, but at least, you’ll know how to get up and run again.
“I think people are born with a purpose and the innate gifts necessary to realize that purpose.”Glen Keane
That’s how you build something, right? It’s from the ground up, one step at a time. To be where I am today, it took me nearly thirty years. Heck, I’m still learning new tricks today!
I thought my drawing skills to be useless sometimes growing up. I wanted to be a marine biologist or Egyptologist, not a freelance artist or author. I wanted to be useful. I lied to myself; it was that third voice trying to choke all the others because deep down I wished I could become the next Stephen King drawing my book covers.
When we’re young, we wish we were older, and when we’re older, we wish we were young again. We all want what we ain’t got. That’s life. We’re never happy with what we possess and our favorite things always just out of reach.
I’m from Canada, and I wish I lived in South Africa. It’s the never-ending wish upon a star that died millions of years ago that we still see the light from Earth but doesn’t grant wishes anymore.
“Imagination is more important than knowledge.”Albert Einstein
When I realized what an adult indeed was, I promised myself I’d never become one. I’m not the type of girl to wear a designer suit, high heels and drive to work to do a 9 to 5 office job. I don’t wear makeup, and I don’t like people in general. I can’t go downtown and enjoy myself. I don’t drink alcohol and go dancing, partying or whatever it is adults do on weekends.
I wear The Lion King tees, jogging pants, slip in shoes, flip-flops or boots. My hair is always in a messy ponytail, and I work seven days a week on at least one of my three computers, my monitor tablet plugged-in, drawing or writing.
That’s it, that’s who I am. I’m not ashamed anymore. You can laugh at my lifestyle. You can judge my way of dressing up or the fact that I don’t drink or eat adult meals, my body powered on peanut butter and apples makes happy.
I’ve learned to let go of certain things despite my OCD; I let go of who I’m not. I can’t “adult,” it’s not me. So, since I’m not a child or an adult, I’m me, and that’s good enough for my furry baby, Carey, and hubby and me.