This is how I became an artist. The late 80s and early 90s were a time of restless monotony for me. Each morning I followed the same script—waking up, heading to work, and returning home to a life that felt devoid of purpose. Even my hobbies, once a source of solace, now seemed lifeless. Depression lingered in the background, whispering questions I didn’t have the answers to: *Is this all there is?*
Desperate for change, I turned to self-help books and motivational tapes. I scoured countless pages, searching for some spark to ignite the passion I knew must exist somewhere within me. Yet, even after years of immersing myself in the teachings of various self-help gurus, nothing seemed to stick. Until one day, a book titled *Unlimited Power* by Anthony Robbins landed in my hands.
As I was reading, something clicked. Robbins spoke of a life filled with boundless possibilities, and the key to unlocking it lay in reprogramming my thoughts and setting goals. Goals—I realized I had none. For years, I’d drifted aimlessly, unsure of what I even wanted to achieve. But Robbins’ advice was clear: start simple, imagine freely, and jot down three things you’d love to do if anything were possible.
I immediately grabbed a pen and wrote down three adventures I would like to explore:
1. Take a helicopter flying lesson. I always liked the idea of flying a helicopter.
2. Try scuba diving. I used to snorkel in the river and liked it a lot.
3. Take an art lesson. I was intrigued by my Uncle’s artistic talents.
The art lesson seemed the easiest to tackle. Conveniently, my uncle, a seasoned artist, lived right next door and had been offering painting lessons. A few days later, I found myself in his studio. He handed me a canvas, some brushes, and a Bob Ross book for inspiration. Together, we prepped the materials, squeezed out the paint, and began. My uncle guided me as I loaded a large brush with paint, covering the canvas with bold strokes of base color. Then, dipping into richer hues, I began to shape trees, grass, and distant mountains.
And then it happened—an indescribable sensation that surged through me like electricity standing the hair up on the back of my neck. As the paintbrush moved across the canvas, a profound realization swept over me: *This is what I’ve been searching for*. My heart raced, my hands trembled with excitement. I could barely focus on finishing the lesson. I turned to my uncle and said, “I have to go.”
Confused, my Uncle asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like painting?”
“No, it’s not that,” I replied. “I have to go to Plattsburgh.”
He said “Aren’t you going to finish the lesson?”
Before he could protest further, I left and drove straight to Plattsburgh and spent over $500 on art supplies. When I returned, my aunt was incredulous. “You’ve never even painted before! What if this is just a passing whim?” she said.
But I knew better. The certainty that had eluded me for so long now burned brightly within me. I told her “ I’ve found it. This is what I’ve been looking for my entire life.” I told her. “This is my passion, my purpose. I know it.”
From that moment, my life shifted. I didn’t bother pursuing the other lessons—I didn’t need to. Painting became the cornerstone of my existence, leading me to open my own gallery and build a life filled with creativity and fulfillment. The spark I’d sought for years had finally ignited, and I’ve never looked back.
