As an artist I think a lot about the eternal. The artist's that have gone before me and the legacy that they have left behind. What will mine be? Will I ever make a mark on the art world? Will my art end just end up in junk shops after their owners pass away?
When I was younger when people used to suggest that I would sell a million dollar painting my heart used to jump at the thought. Now I know that most of the time if a painting sells for a lot of money usually the beneficiary is a dealer or a collector and not the actual artist. Now I even wonder if there is a place for that anymore. When movies and sports events have taken the place of the salons of Paris I don't know if the visual artist will be the big winner anymore in the income category.
Next week I turn thirty.
This brings about some self introspection. Who am I and what have I accomplished?
I have a couple degrees under my belt.
I am happily married to man who treats me like a jewel.
I have a gorgeous daughter.
Maybe this is it, maybe that's my eternity.
Not in the canvases I have covered in paint. Or the rocks I have carved into pretty shapes. Or maybe even the words I have written.
The hearts I have touched. The students who feel better about their life because I have told them, 'Really it gets better.'
The friends whose hands I have held through tears and joys.
The family that I came from who reminds that I have always have a place to go when it doesn't look so sunny.
The husband who I have promised to love and care for on this side of life.
And now the daughter, who came from my body and is the physical sign and culmination of the love shared between my husband and I.
Maybe that is what I will be remembered for.