There has been times throughout last year that I thought I didn’t have it anymore. That I wasn’t really an artist, or that if I was, I had lost my talent. My talent to take seemingly different images and thoughts and layer them into something of beauty of thought, but you know what? I haven’t. I have it still, sure I struggle with many pieces of work that I reject because they don’t feel right, but then I get one right, like my recent Spot Weld, and I feel warm inside, confidence flickers.

And from that warm flickering light I take a leap, I take chances. I apply for public art, I don’t know if I will get it, but I know that I tried and I know that is worth something. I apply for Art First! again and I keep looking for other opportunities too. I believe because I know no one else is going to do the believing for me. We have to take chances and risks in life or there isn’t any point. And so I keep picking myself up and dusting myself off and trying again.

It reminds me of playing kickball in elementary school. I wasn’t any good I had a cast, brace or Illizarov all my childhood, I couldn’t really run, let alone kick the ball far. But I wanted to and begged to play. My classmates I am sure hated it, but I kept on trying and once in a while I actually got to run. Of course I felt horrible when I screwed up, missed the ball, couldn’t run fast enough, whatever, but the thing is I didn’t let it stop me. And I can’t let it stop me know, from going after the future whatever it may hold.