Everything seemed to be so sad and depressing. Contemplating my immortality again. Scary thought to leave this world at anytime. Like playing Russian roulette. Your turn will come at anytime. I drive in fear sometimes. I work watching my back for something to fall on me. I drive home racing in hopes that going 100 mph I can get home faster and there will be less chance for my number to come up. I walk in the door and I am relieved to see my family all home and we are together once again. They made it as well. I call my sons and see if my grandchildren are OK. I make sure my parents are breathing in their old age. All is calm now in my crazy little world. My paranoia is asleep for the moment. What does this whining story of mine have to do with art? ever thing. this is what keeps artists from painting. Life is too short to waste time painting. Why should I paint when I have all these other things to do. Some artists aren't so positive about life and they are the most creative people. They are the most brightest and have the most to offer this world. They can bring so much joy to the world. I was one of those people that would be paranoid at one time. I did not trust many people. I did not talk much to anyone. I hated dealing with the public and hated crowds. Especially a COSTCO! I was at my wits end. I had enough of this grinding my teeth. It was wearing my family down this anxiety and depression. The stupid shrink was sick of me so I stormed out of his office like a little bitch.....his fault but I still should not have lost it...oh well. I learned from that as well. I found myself in my garage with an extension cord around my throat standing on a chair ready to take a step of cowardice. At that moment my family, life, experiences, all the people I have impacted in one way or another crossed my mind...I was reminded of the people I love so much. I was shown something special. I'm still here. I started to paint. I prayed for my gift to come back. I prayed for my family. I prayed for my paranoia to go away. I know I am getting all JESUS on you but he did answer my prayers. My love for creating came back and gave me purpose. i started to paint on a medium that no one was doing. It is wonderful. I was given a gift for my faith and patience. I was trusting him and my abilities. I went with it. I did not doubt my ability any longer. I just created. I created with what others throw away. scrap metal. I made a difference with the first piece I gave away. The real boost of confidence is when a fellow artist complimented me. WOW. I did not need to be validated...it was just so nice. After all these years of doubting myself. I really did not know the true meaning of "artist". I am an artist. Art saved my life. Well.....partly. But it is carrying me. It is allowing me to go to work happy knowing I have a purpose in this mysterious life. I don't know the purpose of humanity....I know my purpose. I don't know the world is going to end or when my neighbor's time is up....but I know when my life is done I will have left a legacy for my family to enjoy as long as I keep painting. They will always see me in my art. My loved ones and friends will always find me. We all have a passion. My passion happens to be creating pieces of work to make people be happy and appreciate God's gifts. Yes I am very appreciative that he gave me a gift ...whether I think I deserve it or not.....that is another long story. I thank him and hope I can give enough people some of that love to show thanks. Find your passion. If it isn't art as this blog is intended....find your passion. Find your purpose. Smile, love, hold on to it and RUN!