I'm not unique. I may have a couple of unique facets. If you tilt me this way or that, you might get a glimpse of one in the moonlight, or the morning light, depending on the time of day and in which direction you do the tilting. Here's the deal. I'm old. Not that old, but kind of old. Like middle-aged. This is older than I ever imagined I'd get and I got here a lot quicker than I expected to. Being a nurse, I know it only gets worse. I'm not complaining, mind you. Ok, yes, I'm complaining. But, it's not like I'm obsessed with it or anything. I'm not. I'm just afraid things will be over before I've even had a chance to get started. This is the crux of my problem.
Now, if I were being rational about it, I'd know, if it were over before I got started, I wouldn't even know it, right? It'd be over. I could breathe my last breath, hopefully when I'm 90ish and say, "Oh, well. That was a great ride, even though, I never really got on the bus, I had a lot of fun chasing it." Whatever. I'm not going to say that. Maybe, I will. In reality, I guess I like chasing busses, else I wouldn't be here trying to figure out the best way to catch one.
I want the big bus. The giant, candy-apple red, double-decker bus with great, yellow polka dots, and an ooga horn right out front. I don't want a plain, old city bus. Yes, I know a city bus can get to the same place as the big bus, but it's just plain. If I'm going to strive for something, rip my guts out and tie them around the chandelier, it won't be for a plain, old bus. Here's where things get complicated. I'm just a plain, old girl. I have a day job. My life's half over. I don't hang out with the cool kids, but I still want to get on that big, shiny bus and blow the horn till the toads come home.
I'm an artist, you see. Except, I did things. Like I got married when I was a kid and a bunch of other stuff. I had babies and got divorced and joined the Army and worked in a jail and made orthodontic appliances and played mortgage loan officer and ran a website and then went to school for ten years getting a BFA in Painting, before ending up as a nurse. Yeah. I did stuff like that. Well, I had to earn a living, right? But, now, I'm on the downhill. I think I messed it up. I didn't go in order. My life is backwards, but my mitochondria is still running forwards. Like Willie Wonka in the tunnel on the chocolate river, there's no way to know which way the river's flowing, but I'm rowing and I'm rowing!
Alright. It's too early to panic. I'm not panicked. I just told you these things so you'd understand where I'm coming from on the inside. Doubt you'll hear much about it again, because I'm going to be talking about painting.