What if you want more than anything to be an artist, and shape your entire life around that goal, only to find out, years later, that you are indeed an artist but not of the type you expected?
For instance, what if you feel a great soulfulness inside you, but discover after years of honing your soulish talent that you are really a different kind of writer (or painter or dancer or singer or musician, etc.) altogether and that your gift isn't really about soulfulness at all?
It could be any quality, really, that you feel in your heart and long to give shape to and express--humor, intellect, impishness. It means everything to you, and then you find out you can't do that but you can do something else, which, unfortunately, you don't really want to do.
What then?
I know someone who had this experience. Or something close to it.
It may have happened to me, too, except I'm not quite sure. Or I am sure but don't want to be.
This is not the good kind of surprise. Unless it turns out that it is.
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"What if you want more than anything to be an artist, and shape your entire life around that goal, only to find out, years later, that you are indeed an artist but not of the type you expected?
I don't know. Is there ever really a way to know this definitively? Maybe talent evolves and your friend's talent will continue evolving, who knows in what direction?
It means everything to you, and then you find out you can't do that but you can do something else, which, unfortunately, you don't really want to do. What then?
I can't imagine giving up on something that means everything to you for something else you aren't enthusiastic about doing. Even if you can seemingly do the other thing better, what's the point if you don't really want to?
This is not the good kind of surprise. Unless it turns out that it is.
And how intriguing is that? I hope it does indeed turn out to be a good kind of surprise. Keep us posted. I'm dying to know...
Excellent comments, C.K.! All I know about anything in life, including being an artist, is that eventually a giant bird will fly over and land a giant poop on your head.
Concerning surprises, I'm dying to know how things turn out, too. I'm feeling restless and stuck, but I don't know that any changes will come from it.
I'm keeping an eye on the sky, watching for that bird . . .
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