Another year; another transformation

Here comes another birthday. Don't get me wrong: I'm delighted to be having another birthday, but don't really feel like doing a lot of celebrating. (I'm still recovering from Christmas.) I've been trying to talk Ed into celebrating with me on July 19, rather than January 19. He's about convinced. (He's still recovering too).

Debbie, circa 1960. Artist unknown.

Whether we celebrate this weekend or in six months doesn't really matter. But the fact that I will be turning a year older in just a couple of days, does give me pause. It always does. As you may recall, two years ago I pondered the fact that I was turning into a tomboy; and last year, I announced that I was transforming into a late-in-life protester. I'm declaring 2018 as the year I dip my toe (or my paintbrush) into making art.

I've always considered myself artistic, but never ventured very far into validating it. I figured there would be a time for art somewhere down the road. But now that I find myself somewhere pretty far down that road, I better get started on that dream. So, I've signed up for a drawing class. It meets on Mondays for 8 weeks. Santa brought me all the supplies that I will need. It is just a small step, but a step nevertheless.

I'm excited and a little fearful. What if I don't have any talent? What if everyone in the class is way ahead of me? Or heaven forbid, what if I find great joy in drawing and want to spend all my waking hours making art? The uncertainty is scary and exhilarating at the same time. This class will surely be a time of growth and learning, perhaps a transformation. Creating art is something that I've always wanted to do – here I go. Who knows, perhaps this year, I'll turn into an artist!