Or, rather, I’ve accepted the decision. Or stopped not deciding. Or finally believed that I could decide. Or actually told someone about the decision, which makes it actual.
I’m going to go back to school. Not for a degree, but for a portfolio. I finally (after thirty-mumble years) know what I would like to be when I grow up.
I’m going to be an artist. Not an artiste, but rather an artist. Commercial artist. Graphic design, illustration, that sort of thing. I will whore out my art for money. The thing is, I don’t think I have the temperment to be an “artiste”; I don’t have a grand artistic vision or drive. I just like to create things, and I’m good at it. I can see myself doing illustrations for textbooks or children’s books, designing posters or ads, that sort of thing. I don’t really want to design websites or do computer graphics; while I can, and I have, it means that I would be at a computer 40 hours a week, and I’ve had enough of that in my life.
This will take time.
This will cost money.
This will require me to confront quite a few of my demons (I dropped out of college in my freshman year, for various reasons).
This will be logistically very difficult.
I am excited about the challenge. I am thinking about things I want to create. I haven’t done that in years. I am scared of failure. I am scared of success.
So, I decided to talk about things.