Artist In Another Life
When I was three or four years old, I distinctly remember thinking that I loved my previous life as a great artist. Later, as a rational adult, I dismissed it, but the urge to get back to that space and continue my work has haunted me all of my life.
Now I’m carried by five galleries and my paintings sell for thousands of dollars. It’s so weird how a childhood memory can determine the course of an entire life. Despite my success, I still don’t feel like I’ve gotten to the place where I can “continue the work”.
I haven’t let go and experienced the freedom of a child making art. That’s how I’ll know I’ve made it. Maybe there is simply more to life than we currently understand. Story credit: Reddit / (gatorburger)