The dream isn't grand, neither is the desire.
Rather to create something that gives this chapter of my life meaning.
Something to look back on, when I am older, or old, I suppose.
Sitting on my porch, overlooking gentle rolling hills.
Or perhaps it's a lake. Or a meadow. Or the sea. Or fields of lavender in Provence.
Something to look back on.
With a small content smile.
"I did that once."
That all these little things add to my makeup of my being.
I do not want to be defined by one solitary thing.
Rather a series of fulfilling life's tangible dreams.
No desire to dominate or make a big name for myself.
No desire to have my work or creations known en masse.
I prefer to be known, and known deeply and well by kindred spirits.
It is a deep feeling thing, this work I am doing.
Trading days of my life for the "making of my art"
And keenly being aware, that in the end, it is all really such a small thing
In the bigger picture
A chapter I am beginning that at some point will end
Since all chapters must end.
And so too books
And so does life
And so it is
To choose what to make of this life.
I am full of gratitude.