I used to be an artist.

More or less, I mean I am talking in my youth, highschool, where everyone is an artist. Where surging hormones coupled with completely childish inflated self-views feed raging fires of passion for poetry, garage bands, and mixed media pieces of "art" that, as soon as one heads off to college, will end up in the bottom of their parents closet and sworn at every time dad needs to find his dress shoes(see www.regretsy.com). Where all your peers will tell you to your face that you have so much talent, way more than everyone out there, but behind your back/on facebook/via texts, they are telling all their "friends" how amateurish your style is and how someone should tell you that you will never make it.

Anyway, I used to be an artist.

Then life interrupted. Shortly after being liberated from the confines of the hick adult factory that was my highschool and entering the hallowed halls of pompous jackassedness that is our fair university system, I found the love of my life. After much planning and preparation, we found ourselves with child. By much I mean none. Pretty much within months of dating we found ourselves free during finals week and a challenge was made about the length of time we could have sex without...well you know.

Immediately faced with instant familyhood, all but the most important things were set aside. School, jobs, and kids became our lives. Art, freedom, creativity fled like cockroaches when one suddenly flips on the lights. Quickly and in all directions left my soul. NO, I am not saying that I hate my circumstances or my family nor am I saying that my life has been wasted, quite the opposite. I love my life, my kids, my spouse (who we will call Sommer for ease of writing), I am just saying that my youthful passions were quenched by said change.

Throughout the years, life has become more and more normal/mundane/boring and I have spent many a night dreaming about what could have been without the energy to make it happen. Maybe it is much less an energy thing and much more a desire thing. Living life is easy, following your passions much less so.

We lived, better yet I lived in a rut for many years, I think I still may be stuck, but about 3 years ago we started working for a non-profit corporation in a foreign country. In order to maintain my anonymity I cannot tell you what type of non-profit nor what country we have found ourselves in. What I can say is true for all non-profits, which is pivotal to the remainder of this story.

The truth is.....

with all focus removed from the bottom line, there are fewer demands placed on the employee, and as a result most people employed by non-profits have an immense amount of free time on their hands. No supervisor is demanding extra time or denying days off in order to complete an order on time. Not to say that we do not work hard, we just have some time to pursue other passions. More time than the average person.

I tell you this for the sole purpose to explain what has been happening in my life. When we met, Sommer was not involved in or pursuing anything even resembling the arts. Sommer was a leather clad, combat boot wearing rebel. Now, confronted with this new found free time, Sommer has taken up the practice of an art form, the very art form that I fancied myself adept, and while Sommer is encouraging me to once again take up my brush/instrument/pen, I, oddly enough, have one of those jobs in the non-profit arena that actually requires an inordinate amount of time. With the full knowledge that this is purely an excuse, I continue complaining that I am too tired to pursue what was once my very being.

When Sommer began creating I was happy, happy up until the point that this new passion of Sommer's began to impact my life. There began to be less time for me and more time for art and I was upset. I have since tried to change my attitude to fan the flames growing in Sommer's life even though they have long since been extinguished in my own.

Now for the big but...

but today Sommer received some correspondence from an actual well-respected pro in the art form saying that Sommer's work is some of the best in the world. This is someone that could potentially make or break a career and I found myself pissed. Pissed that it was not me. Pissed that I have thrown that entire part of my life in the trash. Pissed that I won't just pull the trigger and start once more. So pissed in fact, that when Sommer let me know, I immediately stopped listening and continued working in an effort to not take in the information. Much like that chubby little kid on the playground who does not like the rules, I took my ball and went home.

I used to think that I viewed the desires of others as more important, but that is proving to be a farse. Sometimes, when I am just looking at myself, or the moment I find myself in, I forget that I intentionally put my passions aside for my family, and the only thing that really pisses me off is that I am too much of a lazy ass pussy to start again.

What if I have to give up watching my beloved television?

What if I have to use some of the money I would us to buy myself a skinny vanilla latte to pursue this?

What if nobody likes what I do?

The truth is that I am a follower of Christ. I don't want to call myself a Christian because of what it means. Christian literally means little Christ, a smaller version of Christ, but I live a life that at times looks nothing like the life of Christ. I am a selfish, self-serving, egotistical, whining little punk. Everything he is not.

Can you imagine Christ on the cross screaming and yelling at everyone? Pouting because there was someone out there with money that he did not have, someone that was going to live in a phat house with a bunch of servants, someone that was going to go home that night and have dinner with their family, but he could not do any of these things because he KNEW he would be dead.

The truth is I want to be stoked, but I just can't do it . I have been so focused on the sacrifices I have made for our family that I feel like I deserve the credit/accolades/fame. I forgot why I made and continue to make those sacrifices. I do so with the sole intent hat Sommer and the kids can pursue their passions. I want the best for them, not for myself.

I am sick of pouting, and I am so proud of Sommer.

I am so sorry that I could even be pissed and embarrassed that it is now out in the open.