Living the Dream

For the past few days I’ve been working on creating an invitation postcard, an invitation to my first photographic art show. It feels somewhat weird to be making such a statement, as though it should be about someone else. But it isn’t and I’m wondering why I’m finding it to be a bit of a challenge to don the mantle of artist when it has been a lifelong dream of mine.

I suppose it’s about stepping up to meet the goal, to make the final push to the summit. What will change afterwards in the way others see me, in the way I see myself? It seems best not to even think about it, not to step outside of the experience and look at it like a movie, but rather to simply go on experiencing my life from within the dream. Aside from having a desire to create, to live in those moments of spontaneous artistry, I haven’t really had a clear objective, much less a plan for how to get there. I am merely responding to my long ignored prime directive to be an artist. It is no more than a matter of being who I am.

So, yes, I am having my first show in October and I’m no longer qualifying it by adding that it is only in a coffee shop; it is still my first show. And at the urging of my good friend and sister in spirit, a very well known Cherokee fine artist, I will be issuing a press release and having an artist’s reception. It’s good to have friends who will hold the mirror for me, who encourage me to see myself in their looking glass eyes.