What do you say when someone asks you how much money you need to make your creative dreams come true? I can confidently, experientially tell what you shouldn't say. First, you shouldn't completely lose your composure and start to look around nervously and you definitely shouldn't say, "about $5000-$10,000". Might be a better idea to remain in the authentic frame of mind you'd been in for the previous two hours and fifty minutes, having delightful get to know you sort of conversation. Possibly shrug, smile and say "I haven't decided yet, could I get back to you"? Or even, I've had such a nice time, let's not talk about money. A third idea might be, "well, why do you ask"?I'm happy to report that I always learn from my mistakes and after much reflection will never again make the mistake of saying something stupid. Or Maybe, probably, oh heck you know I will say something stupid again....... it's one of the things I do best. In the words of Catherine Aird, "if you can't be a good example then you'll just have to serve as a horrible warning".
I've had more rewarding adventures and learnings in the past 48 hrs than the rest of my life rolled together. I've been on a secret journey to see much art and have been rewarded beyond measure. Graffiti, shoes, clothes, conversation, magnolia blossoms and people living artfully is what I've found. I may have to sleep for a week, now, but my dreams will be sweet and my smiles will be real. I've been given a vision of the trajectory I was on and the one I embarked when I made one small change. If I trace the lines out along the triangular space between them it becomes greater with every inch and reveals to me, I am good.
the following poem is by Mary Oliver, The House Light Beacon Press Boston, 1990.
as seen at http://www.bemindful.org/poems.htm
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-- the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?