I read a book on how to achieve goals. It highlighted that choosing the right goal is critical. Sometimes we choose goals because we think they are right for us, but
Last year I had a goal. I wanted to become a professional comic artist. The human figure on a canvas has fascinated me since I was a little dragon. Motion, action, stillness, emotions, a telltale in a single picture. I can stand in front of one of the classic masterpieces and lose myself in the details of the strokes, colors, shade and light. If I tell you about the time I saw part of the MET art collection, I bet the thrill in my voice and my dreamy expression would be as somebody else's telling you about the time they met the love of their life. My love escaped me for centuries. Life would always get in the way and I could only envy all those that courted her and got to make such great things.
A few months ago, I decided I would give myself the chance to court my love. I was determined. I started The Lord of the Clones as a training to develop the needed skills. It wasn't too bad for a total amateur. I even surprised myself a couple times. My love was being kind to me, even as I glimpsed at the more complex sides of art... My.Dragon.Goodness. I knew my love was the "high-maintenance" type but I think I forgot just how expensive and complex it has become. I look at my pencil and my pad and then gaze at all the technology and obscenely expensive software and my heart sinks, wishing to hide under a rock in embarrassment and shame.
You have many talents, but none is worth much. I hear again the ominous words I've been told for so long. No. I can't afford the needed technology and software to make this affair profitable. I don't think my mechanical pencil and my talent will get me too far without tools to compete with what is out there. I feel guilty of the time spent with my love, so I eventually find myself evading her. I don't enjoy the company. It distresses me. I make myself useful. I learned gardening because we have a big garden and not committed gardeners. I help in the home chores, in repairs. I offer to help people and I pray and meditate, a lot. That gives me peace.
But it still feels like an unrequited love. I resist the call. I want it because it's my heart's desire but I don't want it because it makes me feel bad. I feel ashamed because I encourage others to face their fears and go for their goals, but I feel guilty fighting for a love from which nothing "profitable" will come out. A voice tells me I should pursue what is giving me peace, because I need it. Another voice tells me I will die regretting what could have been but never was. Either way, the struggle impairs my drawing skills so much I can only doodle...and make cats. I hate cats! But my creations are kind of cuddling. Besides it's the only thing that has achieved the bee hive in my head go silent. Great for meditation.
So is this fear? Is it a value issue? What do you think?
Alex J. Cavanaugh for passing this award on to me. If it were for me, I would return it to him, because he's one of the kindest people I know online and the most deserving, really.
Rules says you have to give it to a person who encourages, inspires or helps others using their writing gift. Truth is, all those whose blogs I read have encouraged or inspired me at one time or another. That would be all those whose names are in the Dragon's Hall of Fame. They're there for a reason and this is pretty much it. Since I can only name one on this post, I'll just say thank you, Alex, you're too kind!