Someone who has made my life worth living ....
And how the hell do I pick here? To start I'll take my family out of the running. Not that they don't belong but because it is the obvious choice and I would find myself writing about them again, probably starting to piss them off in the process. I don't want to be the topic of conversation at Thanksgiving dinner once again this year.
So where does that leave me? I’m not even sure how to take this one in that could it be someone I have never met but admire? Could be someone long gone such as van Gogh whose work I love and sometimes obsess over? There have been professors who have had a major impact on me and the head of the Art History School at Penn State who always seemed to see something in me that I never did. A couple of old friends who have been through so much with me and have pulled me along, sometimes kicking and screaming, and a newer friend who has become my inspiration and possibly my biggest fan. I just can't pick among them.
So it comes back to the obvious answer. The one person that made my life worth living was my mom and she always will be. Rather than write the same thing all over again I'll quote what I wrote on Mothers Day (l) ....
" .... I owe my mom so much. She was the first one to see something special behind my dark eyes. She would drag me around Philadelphia museums when I was barely old enough to walk. She was the first one to stick my fingers in paint, which was something that ended in quite a mess if I remember it correctly. And the first one to take me to wander the streets of New York and to visit MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) which was one of her favorite places in the world. She always praised my art but was also never afraid to criticize it ...."
A day doesn't go by without me thinking about her and sometimes it seems as if I miss her more now than I ever have.
