One of the neat things about being an artist is the reality that the older I get the more my collection of art grows. I think it is something that actually helps me as I approach 39 next month. Although I am shocked that I could possibly be closing in on 40, if I turn my attention instead to ‘well, look at how much my inventory is growing’ then the sadness turns to happiness and the barely visible wrinkles and bald head can be things to poke fun of at myself. “Oh look, I’m BALD, waaaahhhaaaahhaaaaa” or “my skin, it’s getting dry and wrinkles are forming, waaaahhhaaaahhaaaaa”. Having a growing inventory makes all of those problems disappear for me. When I think of say George Burns or Mother Theresa I don’t think “what old and wrinkly folks” I think “if I live that old what in the hell will my collection of art look like?” I mean, perhaps I’m a little off in some areas, well many areas perhaps, but this thought gives me comfort. I feel great knowing that if I play my cards right and don’t do something stupid like getting myself hurt so I can’t sculpt than my inventory will grow. Being a fine artist, freelance artist, commissioned artist, whatever, I have learned that the larger and more diverse my inventory is the greater the likelihood I can continue my passion of sculpting. It is a wonderful feeling for me and I imagine for most or all other artists and I hope that my passion for sculpting rubs off on those around me in the meanwhile. I believe the world needs more artists. More people who can laugh at themselves as they get fat, bald and wrinkly. Can’t you imagine walking into a restaurant with your best friend or wife and laughing hysterically that you discovered a new wrinkle on your forehead? How great would this place be? We wouldn’t have a need to go bombing other countries, religion wouldn’t need to be taken so damn seriously and school wouldn’t suck. I would’ve loved it if my teachers said things like “look at how ugly I am, but I don’t give a %$#$ because I have a lot of art”. Wouldn’t it be great?