It has been years. When I mean years, I mean almost my entire life. My memories begin at about age 4. So, I can honestly say that for the past 40 years, I have wanted to illustrate books. I still haven't done it, but I am working on it. Finally.
When I was little, I would draw all sorts of stuff: fruits doing ballet, mice wearing Holly Hobby dresses, girls frocked in the latest fashion and unseen lands of my imagination. I've been an artist for many years and have recently delved into trying my artistic hand and illustration.
About four weeks ago, I began a night class at RISD from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. It was very difficult for me to sign up. Between my desire to be in bed by 8: 30 (don't judge me: my kids get up at 5:45 a.m. for school) and my deep-seeded feeling of inadequacy, I've been pushing this class off for at least a decade. Yes, a decade. Isn't it amazing what fear does to a life? It slows it down to a molasses pace and wastes precious opportunities!
So, in my 40s, I have found bravery. I signed up for a class. I parked on the East Side in the dark. And I walked two blocks down College Hill (WAY down) to get to my class. Keep in mind, that I had to walk back up (WAY Up) the same College Hill to get back to my car. I was very nervous and insecure. These are big steps for me. I still haven't paralleled parked, but maybe, just maybe, I will brave that one of these days! And, I don't like to drive in the dark and I don't like to hike from and to my car
I'm four weeks in to my class. I just finished the above illustration. There are a lot of things I see wrong with it with composition and execution. But, you know, I am proud. I am proud that I did it. I showed up. I walked up and down that darn hill. And I put myself out there.
What have you always wanted to do? Sit with that question for a bit. Make a decision to do one--just on--step towards that goal. Make a call. Send an email. Sign up for a class. Whatever it is...make it happen.
