We are all a function of our times. Only a few of us escape the boundaries of time to live more in the past, or more in the future, than is our allotted fate. I think about this every day, as I go about the prosaic tasks of this particular moment, regardless of what yesterday might have been, or what tomorrow may become.
Today was another ordinary, and therefore special day. A hot one here. We had a meeting about my youngest daughter's high school prospects, now she is about to begin (gasp) 8th grade! The director of her school loves her and believes she can go anywhere, including Lowell, which only admits students on the basis of very high merit scores on specialized tests only a few can achieve.
But my daughter has set herself on an even harder task, getting into the public school dedicated only to the arts. In a place like San Francisco, that's like getting into a school only dedicated to football in, say, Pittsburgh.
It is hard to make that work out.
But she is a determined young woman, and I believe she will accomplish this goal, as long as it is truly what she wants to do.
After all, how many at the age of 13 truly know what they want to do?
She works with a tutor and her techniques are steadily improving; I'll post some more of her work here eventually.
But as I told her today, wanting to pursue art as your focus is much more than working at it; it's about loving it and needing to do it.
Absently, I suggested why not use some free time now to begin an art project?
She shook her head and only then did I notice what she was doing -- making a lovely little sign explaining that the doorbell on her mom's house doesn't work.
Such, of course, is the nature of an artist.
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