Ancient Artist: Developing an art career after 50

Finding a Signature Style

    Robert Henri often told his students,

    "An artist who does not use his imagination is a mechanic."

    Artists working today feel pressured to develop a signature style.  We hear it in multiple marketing messages.   We hear it in feedback that comes with rejection. 

    But what, exactly, is a signature style? And how does an artist develop one when every technique or approach has been done before?

    There is no secret to a signature style: it's the result of the way you think and respond to what you want to communicate.   And the more that you work in your chosen medium, the more you will find those ideas that make your work unique.

    As an art student, we learn first by copying exactly what we see, and then by copying the work of other artists to learn a little about their style and genre.  The hope is that, by replicating the successful art from a master, the student learns something not easily taught. 

    But at some point the student must seek out ways to create his own language.  To start his own conversation with the world.

    Think of your signature style as the lens that focuses your work.  It can be identified in the medium you use - textile, glass, clay, metal, paint on canvas or ink on paper.  It's in the way you divide your space, your favored compositional arrangements, your subject matter and treatment.  Some artists rely on a particular mannerism or mark, while other artists paint hundreds of paintings of the same subject.  Your color preferences, the way you might use line or perspective - all these elements play a role in what you create.  They emerge in the form of your signature style.

    I believe there is a distinction between what we are taught in the traditional method of learning – copying the masters and learning from them – and copying a contemporary artist’s style.  One is based in your desire to learn and understand your craft, and the other is based on your fear that your work won't succeed if you use your own voice.

    But if you never use your own voice, we will never hear what you have to say.  Only your impression of what you think some other artist had to say. 

    Paint or create your art every day.  Art is a discipline, and like other disciplines, to be successful you need to practice what you do consistently.  If you find your work too heavily influenced by an artist you admire, analyze what it is that you're doing.  Look for ways to use the concept with a different subject matter.  Or use the color combinations in a different medium and compositional arrangement.  Working "in the style of" an artist is a long-standing tradition, and I've seen many artists use artistic influences to their advantage.  But if your work only mimics a more prominent artist without your own stamp of originality,  you risk constant comparison - not only by your peers, but by your potential clients, who won't be shy about dismissing your work.

    The art industry wants high-quality products and innovation. They look for credible artists who can demonstrate not only their ability to use time-honored approaches but do so with a fresh voice. 

Robert Henri also said,

                         “Know what the old masters did.  Know how they composed their pictures, but do not fall into the conventions they established.  These conventions were right for them, and they are wonderful. They made their language.  You make yours.”

                  

Did Your Art CareerJust Enter an Empty Room?

The Empty Room
oil on linen
@2007 Sue Favinger Smith   

When you look forward to 2009, does it feel as if you're looking into an empty room?

    I know - for artists, the past few months have been, well, challenging. 

    Everywhere I looked, or read, or listened, I heard messages about the economic outlook and how my art career was about to change.  That my planning, my hard work, those moments when the door seemed to open - had suddenly disappeared in a little poof of dust as the future collapsed. 

    Back in 2007, when I painted The Empty Room, I was actually thinking about a women involved in a relationship: she is standing on the threshold, but is she leaving an empty relationship, or staring into one?  I left that determination up to the viewer, and it is the same determination I use now as I stand on the threshold of the new year.

    Am I leaving an empty year, filled with closing galleries, slowing sales, enthusiasm for the work but with few sales?

    Am I staring into an empty year, filled with real economic sacrifice and uncertainty?

    Or do I see the empty room as one that is open to a wealth of possibility?  Filled with new choices, new work, and new opportunity?

    No one really knows the future.  What we know - what I know - is that I do have control over how I experience the future.  There might be some plans that are put on hold.  Others might be discarded while new opportunities appear.  It's all in how you see it. 

    We have a choice. 

    Live on Purpose.

Update on Ancient Wisdom: Emerging Artist, a Business Plan for the Mature Artist.

    I have almost finished this project, and I'm in the process of figuring out the best way to publish it.  But I thought I would give you a small excerpt from  the section titled The Power of Action:

    I read once that life doesn’t really get interesting until you know what you want.  I would have to amend that statement: life doesn’t really get interesting until you act on what you want.  Knowing is passive.  It’s a purely intellectual exercise.  I know that I like chocolate, but I can only appreciate how much I adore, desire, and would do nearly anything for chocolate by taking a piece of rich Belgium creaminess and letting it melt slowly on my tongue. 

    Of course, acting has its downside.  Since the effort to reinvent your life can be harder than doing things the way you’ve always done them, there’s probably no real reason to risk it. Except for when you look back twenty years from now and wonder why you didn’t.

Have a wonderful 2009


_____________________________________________________________________________________

If you would like to republish this article on your blog or e-zine, please do.  Just be sure to add this complete blurb:

Sue Favinger Smith is a professional artist who began her art career at the age of 50.  She writes Ancient Artist: Developing an Art Career After 50, a blog dedicated to empowering artists seeking to reinvent themselves at mid-life.  You can subscribe by visiting http://ancientartist.typepad.com.

As always, I appreciate your comments and interaction.  And if you know someone who might enjoy this blog, please forward it to them.

The Value in Mini Marketing

We all have different ways of working.

Depending on your media of choice, there will be aspects unique to your process, as well as influences that affect your thinking, perhaps without you even realizing it.  You walk into a successful gallery and see artwork that emphasizes decorative surface design and wonder if the public taste is moving in that direction.  You read reviews of the latest museum show at the Whitney addressing social questions of inequity and feel a vague sense of what...discontent?  Uncertainty?  A lack of weight in your own work?  I know I feel this struggle -- between what I do and what I imagine I should do.

In our culture we often evaluate our own performance against that of others.  It's intuitive: one can imagine ancient man learning to hunt by observing the successful tactics of others.  And artists have always learned their craft this way. 

But if we're habitually looking at the success of others, we may be overlooking the success we ourselves experience: the first really good artist statement, the painting that opened your eyes to the power of values, the invitation to hang your work at the local bookstore -- or the best gallery in town.  And without acknowledging our successes, it becomes harder and harder to move forward, to keep up the emotional stamina to live this artistic life.

What can we do?  I believe a part -- a big part -- of honoring your work as an artist is to pay as much attention to the business side of your life as the artistic side.  This means not letting the economy assume such a huge importance that you stop doing what you need to be doing: marketing, replenishing your supplies, learning and improving your skills.  There will be artists who will wring their hands and use the current situation as an excuse to walk away from their work -- but you're not going to be one of them.  I'm not going to be one of them.

Mini Marketing  

Of course the first thing I started to worry about when the economy tanked was paying for necessities  without it disintegrating into a choice between food and art.  Because, food would probably win that argument.  But there are ways to still accomplish goals even with limited funds.

I discovered Moo.com recently, thanks to a mention by Clint Watson on his Fine Art Views blog, and this is what I like about this company:

• I can order postcards in units of 20, with multiple images.  I used five images, giving me four cards with each image. This allows me to target my mailings - abstract people get abstract images, realism people get the landscapes and still lifes.  A real plus right now when my marketing budget is competing with my art supply budget and I know I need both.

• The price is reasonable ( about $1.00 per card ) considering that I have the flexibility to get multiple images as opposed to one large order of the same image. I also like ordering in units of 20: I ordered a total of 40 cards, enough to touch bases with a critical group of clients and galleries without worrying too much about the costs. I would probably use Modern Postcard or a similar company for larger mailings of a single image, because the price per card is considerably less. But right now, I don't feel comfortable purchasing 250 cards with labels and postage. I realize that  affordable marketing is better than none at all.

• The print quality is as good as Modern Postcard, although the delivery time was constrained by the fact that this company is based in England.

• The ability to upload my images, enter my text, and see the finished product from the comfort of my home office is very appealing to me - I'm an instant gratification artist, and I also want that sense of total control.  

• The website was generally easy to navigate, but a word of warning - double check for typos and if you aren't happy, start your project over.  There is no human on the other end, although there was a cute little mini-moo who communicates with you, so at least you think there's a human on the other end.

• I have also ordered business cards with multiple images, and although I haven't received that order yet, if they're as nice as the postcards, I'll never print business cards using my computer and store-bought materials again.

So I encourage you to look at your own mini-marketing plans.  Explore the internet or look for local resources available  - perhaps a print shop willing to work with you, or a group of like-minded artists who will go in together on a larger promotional event. Look at your budget, find something you're comfortable doing, and move forward.  That's what I'm doing.

Don't Run For Cover

"Every time we choose safety, we reinforce fear."  - Cheri Huber, Zen teacher

I remember the Duck and Cover drills from Elementary School.  The alarm would sound, we would drop our pencils and dive to the floor.  Never mind that the small desk surface would be inadequate protection in the event of an earthquake.  The pretense of safety was more important: how else to create a sense of control over something beyond our control?

I feel a little like ducking and covering now when I look at the changes occurring - not just with the housing meltdown, or the stock market, but in the pulling back and reassessing of the social attitudes that have prevailed over the past quarter century.  What will be different?  How will I function?   Is there still an audience for my art?

These are fear-based questions, of course.  Sneaky things that disguise themselves in the cloak of realistic concerns.  And while I, as an artist, should pay attention to the intellectual importance of these unknowns, I can't allow the emotional  uncertainty to get too strong of a foothold. 

So what do I do?

"To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly" - Henri Bergson, French Philosopher

Many of the discussions we've had through this blog have had, at their core, unanswered questions about the meaning or purpose of art. 

What is art?  I remember the first time I read "Has Modernism Failed" by Suzi Gablick; I felt her indictment of Modern Art as a slave at the service of it's corporate masters was taking away my opportunity  to succeed.  I also remember asking one of my art professors about another book I owned, "What is Art? The Esthetic Theory of Ayn Rand."  I remember the look on that professor's face.  Again, I was courting heresy and consigned the dangerous book to the back of the shelf. 

 I even painted "The Argument Between Aesthetics and Philosophy,"  to prove my Modernist mettle.  Sure, heavily influenced by Philip Guston, but as I recall, that was part of the assignment. 

My point is this: I can't form my own personal philosophy of what art is unless I read about what others say - even if it goes against what I believe to be true.  And what I have discovered  is that nothing is completely accurate or inaccurate.

 For example, I agree with Ayn Rand's concept that art is a fundamental spiritual need in humans and that one purpose of art for (wo)man is to fulfill "a more profound need: confirmation of his view of existence - a confirmation, not in the sense of resolving cognitive doubts, but in a sense of permitting him to contemplate his abstractions outside his own mind, in the form of existential concretes." (p. 50)

However, I also see her concept that for the artist, art creation is a way of translating metaphysical abstracts into concrete imagery to be the core value beneath Modernism and Post-Modernism. 

And both of these positions I found reinforced by the writings of Annie Dillard.  And debunked by Tolstoy. With a new twist from Kandinsky.

So it goes.  This is maturing, perhaps, trying to find an answer that resonates with my own "sense of life", as Rand would put it. 

So while I watch what is occurring in the external world, putting one foot ahead of the other in pursuit of my art career, I am also doing the important internal work.  Because I realize that, for me to have the necessary conviction to succeed, I must clearly establish my core beliefs -- beliefs that will sustain me and point me in the right direction over the coming years.

Here are some of the areas I am concentrating on:

• I am pushing myself to higher levels of craft and technical skill.  I believe that future trends in consumer preferences will be for art that transcends mimicry and displays not only conceptual ideas but visual "beauty" no matter what the subject matter.  Looking back -- at what Milton Resnick stated about painting being about "what paint can do", and further, to the recognized Masters of the past, Vermeer, Titian, seeking knowledge about how emotion and "sense of life" were communicated.  Then looking forward,  because I believe art grows from the past, reacts to the present, and helps to illuminate the future.

• I am looking for and clarifying my own philosophy about what art is and how it influences my work.  I am reading Rand, and re-reading Gablik, then Kandinsky, because I have the books.  But I will also be searching for other points of view.  I believe there's a "hierarchy of needs" for the artist, building one upon the other: securing the space and tools to do your work, discovering your voice, developing the skill set necessary to effectively communicate, and clarifying the philosophy that underlies the purpose of what you do.  

Why do I think this is important?

Because, while there are books available to help you work through the blockages and fears related to the creation of art, I've not found one that specifically addressed the idea of artists developing their own personal philosophy of what art is.   Not only the purpose of art making in their own practice, but understanding the various philosophies of the "Art World" and the "Non-Art World".   How many times have I felt blocked because I was torn between competing motives?  And I'm not talking about the first or second level down in my thinking: wanting to communicate an experience of something, or creating purely decorative pieces with no significant message. I realized that I had vague senses of what were my "core beliefs," and that I needed to pull them into the light of day to be examined, articulated, and placed where I can easily access them during periods of doubt.

And you? 

Perhaps you discovered this insight years ago.  We're all walking along similar paths and I hope those in front of me will contribute to the discussion.  Those behind can reach forward with insights, too.  We are all learning and supporting one another as artists have always done.  Coming together in their cafe societies, ateliers, and now here in cyberspace.

Who would have thought this possible? 

Sunday Salon: The Dust-Up at AWS and the Continuing Relevance of Duchamp

Apparently there's quite a scandal brewing at the American Watercolor Society.  Recently, they awarded the Gold Medal to an artist who allegedly used copyrighted photographs which were not her own and passed them off as original acrylic "hyper-realism" paintings.

The bare bones of the argument

The underlying argument - setting aside the ethics of stealing someone else's work and passing it off as your own -- is whether or not this artist actually painted her image or printed it off after manipulating the photographs and passed that off as a painting. 

Such fraud could easily be detected by submitting the work to a conservator.  An analysis of the pigments -- or inks -- used would solve the mystery -- or fraud -- quite easily.

But this argument leads to another equally important question: is the use of technology such as Photoshop to manipulate images legitimate in the creation of art? 

Duchamp vs Thiebaud

Duchamp will always be remembered for his "Fountain" challenge to the art world, raising the question of whether something is "Art" simply because we say it's so.  Duchamp said, "The word 'art' interests me very much.  If it comes from Sanskrit, as I've heard, it signifies 'making'" ( Artist to Artist by C. Brown, p10).

So, if an artist uses technology in the "making" of her art, isn't it legitimate according to Duchamp's analysis?

But Wayne Thiebaud has this to say: "Art is one of the dirtiest words in our language, it's mucked up with all kinds of meanings.  There's the art of plumbing, there's the art of almost anything that you can say.  My own sense of it is that it means something very rare, an extraordinary achievement.  It's not delivered like the morning paper, it has to be stolen from Mount Olympus" (Artist to Artist by C. Brown, p10).

Wouldn't this argument suggest the artistic necessity of drawing on some inner inspiration in the making of art, to reach deep and hard,  and not rely on the conveniences of technology ( "the morning paper" )to create desired visual effects?

Is it Art?

With this in mind, I'm showing you a few examples of my new body of work.

"Nest, painted with a limited palette and flattening spacial arrangements" 

"Exaggerated Brush Stroke Landscape Painting in a hyper-impressionist style"

"Dramatic Night Time Painting"

"Art Patron"

"Girls"

"Very Interesting Modern Figure Painting"

Actually, I completed this entire body of work in under two hours.  Amazing.  But more amazing -- if you click on each image an enlarged view will appear.  Look closely at these images. You will probably recognize the styles of some very successful painters.

This isn't to argue either way whether we should considere this acceptable technique or not -- particularly as I was shocked at the color, composition, and beauty in some of these images and may actually paint one or two someday.

But here is my problem with using technology: for me, it takes too much of the human element out of the act of creation.  Technology is addictive. Further, you are relying on the work of someone else --the code writer who programmed the filters in Photoshop. In the end, it has the feel of little more than filling in a coloring book.

For example, looking at the enlarged image, you will see how Photoshop has actually given a road map for values, colors, edges, form.  One could easily upload such an image into any of the on-line giclee services and get back fairly decent prints on either paper or canvas, hand embellish here or there and pass it off as original art.  As long as the original photo is yours, there are no copyright issues.

But is it Art?

Certainly art is the product of each generation.  If nothing else, we live in the technology generation.  Why wouldn't we expect public taste to prefer images that mimic computer generated animations and glossy commercial graphics?  Isn't this an extension of the themes first explored by Warhol with his giant screen prints of Marilyn Monroe and Campbell Soup Cans? 

Look around and count the number of influences in our daily lives that are created through technology.  Now look at the number of art museums.  Even our art history classes rely on photographs -- technology reproducing reality -- to acquaint us with the incredible diversity and talent of past masters.  Is it any wonder that people would be captivated by "artistic output" that offers a technologically perfect version of reality?  To the point of awarding it the "Gold Medal" in one of the most prestigious shows in the world?

But it isn't an argument with an easy answer.  As a visual tool, being able to manipulate your images with a photo editing program can be extremely useful.  I have used the grayscale often to solve value issues.  And since I am still struggling to "see" what it is that I'm trying to capture, I was immediately struck by the last image, shown again here along with the original photograph and a gray scale version:

 

 

But in reading some of the discussions at Wet Canvas, I realized that artists are not just using manipulated images to help them "see" better.  Artists are printing out gray scale versions and painting over them - a modern take on the traditional techniques of the Old Masters or the lazy artist's guide to painting without learning to draw?

What do you think?  How far is too far in relying on technology in our artistic endeavors?

My thanks to Shanti Marie for mentioning the ASW story about Sheryl Luxenburg at David Darrow's Daily Painters Discussion Group.  You can read the details here and also here.  It's an education in copyright infringement as well as artistic ethics.

Where does your courage live?

When we are encouraged, we are "en" - as in "to be in the place, condition, or state of" - courage.

When we are discouraged, we are "dis" -- as in "apart from" or "showing disrespect for" or "reversed from" -- courage.

Knowing where your courage resides could help when you're feeling "dissed."  Just go knock on the door of that inner place.  Realizing how easily you can move from separation to connection should make life easier.  If not happier. Just step through the door.

I found this interesting quote about crouage in The Artist's Mentor, edited by Ian Jackman, and published by Random House Reference.  It's by sculptor Anne Truitt, and only part of a much longer segment.

"Artists have a modicum of control  Their development is open-ended.  As the pressure of their work demands more and more of them, they can stretch to meet it.  They can be open to themselves, and as brave as they can be to see who they are, what their work is teaching them.  This is never easy. Every step forward is a new clearing through a thicket of reluctance and habit and natural indolence.  All the while they are at the mercy of events (pp 209-210)."

Once we understand that we can choose to be "with" our center of courage, outside critics lose some of their sting.  Realizing, too, that a gem of information can be found in any rejection, allows us to step forward from our courageous center. 

As for me, I've found Courage to be a great friend of Slump, although they'd never admit it.  Slump likes to cover for Courage when he (or she) takes a vacation and lives it up on the beach in Mexico.  Not that I'm ignorant of their conspiracy.

I just wish Courage would take me along next time. 

So where does your courage live?

You Either Know...Or You Aren't

I want to share a personal story with you.  Over the past few months I have been fortunate in the validations coming my way.  Some artistic accomplishments were easy to accept.  Others seemed so beyond me that I took to saying things like "I can't believe it" or "They must have made a mistake."

Those of you familiar with the concept that what we focus our attention on is usually what we get already know where this story is going.

As it happens, a good friend of mine, and her husband, are a writer/photographer team, interested in writing a human interest story about an artist who gets a wild inspiration after she turns 50, and the failures and successes she's encountered.  And as this friend is researching my recent acceptance into an influential national arts association, she receives conflicting information.

The first bit of information confirmed that, yes, I was the only artist in the state of Oregon accepted, with only 50 artists in the United States accepted this year into the organization made up of 850 artists.

This was followed a few days later with an email stating that I was not currently an active member.

Of course it turned out that the confusion revolved around my name.  My friend knows me as Sue Smith while the organization uses my full professional name.

But while I was awaiting the confirmation that I was, yes, an accepted member, I realized the universe had just given me an important lesson.

It isn't the outside validations that make you an artist.  

What someone says in New York, or across your dinner table, does not determine your destiny.  I was not, one minute an artist, the next, a not-artist. I am an artist because, deep down inside, with all the conviction in my heart, I know I am an artist. 

And this was my lesson from the Universe: you either know you're an artist...or you aren't.

Summer of Big Dreams

Summer is for dreamers.  Sitting in a hammock, or by the edge of a stream, your toes floating in the cool water, tilting your head back to watch the clouds float and change and open up the possibilities of the world...where does your mind wander?

Are you dreaming big dreams? 

Your creative life begins in dreams.  In the endless "what if?" questions that hover just beyond your reach.  What if I used that Opera Pink instead of the Permanent Rose?  What If I changed my brushwork from meticulous to broad, thick strokes?  What if I tried painting from life?  Changed my style? 

What if I approached that gallery, or submitted to that national show? 

Can you imagine your dreams like an ever expanding spiral, gently turning from the small, quiet, safe ideas into the grand, multi-colored Big Dreams? 

According to Martin S Lindauer, in Aging, Creativity, and Art, one of the benefits of Mature Age is the tendency to think more holistically, to view all experience as part of a greater whole.  Small dreams are just the lead-in for bigger dreams, bread crumbs pointing toward our unique destinies.  Of course, it will always be up to the individual to discover what that destiny might be, and to work through the challenges that come with increased risk-taking.  But if we will commit ourselves to nurturing our dreams, if we honor the internal drive that keeps us at the easel, or potter's wheel, or drawing pad, then we will manifest the lives that we dream about, recognizing...suddenly...that we've been living them all along and simply did not know it.

And if you think you're too old to dream...I would like to share a brief story about Isabel that I found in another wonderful book called Aging Artfully, 12 Profiles: Visual & Performing Women Artists Aged 85 - 105, by Amy Gorman.  Isabel was born in 1916 and has been an artist her entire life. 

            "Isabel pauses.  We share some ripe figs and cream cheese.  'Art is what interests me.'  She continues, thinking of food and art.  ' I'm the one who organizes picnics with my fine, talented friends.  Two years ago I organized one a la Manet's 'Dejeuner Sur L'Herbe,' in the Redwoods.  We made a tableau as in the painting.  Over lunch we wrote stream of consciousness poetry.  My idea was that the women wear clothes and the men not.  The men decided we were just too close to the public road - but they did take their shirts off'  (p 144)."

Life is what we make of it...the stuff dreams are made of.

                      "Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."
                                                                                                           - T.S. Eliot

Sunday Salon: The Three Stages of Growth

    When I was a child, all I really wanted was to grow up.  To be In Charge of myself.  I thought growth was a destination, an obtainable benchmark with smooth sailing from then on.

    And it was for many years.  Life was good.  I understood the rules and functioned fairly successfully.  Until one day I realized I had a choice.  I could stay where I was, at that benchmark.  Or I could follow the calling of my heart into unknown territory.

    I think we all feel the tug at various times in our life, the question "Is this all there is?" Sometimes, circumstances gently tell us, "Yes, it is, for now."  And then one day the answer is different. And we realize we need to grow.

    Growth evolves gradually, and in stages. 

    There is the first stage, when we are filled with the rush of exhilaration, an explorer discovering new territory hidden within ourselves.  We decide to take out that journal and start the book we'd always said we'd write.  Or spill out the box of pencils and charcoal to find just the right piece.  It's a delight to rush to the store and select new paper or canvases, as the possibilities seem endless.

    The second stage begins to creep in when we measure our work against that of others: the rush of joy and relief when we think our work is "better," and the depths of depression in the next moment when we recognize that it's not.  This is when growth becomes an obsession.  When every new book or DVD or blog or workshop  promises to supply the answer, and we struggle over mastering a style that is not our own, or speak in a voice that feels foreign to us, using words we can't understand.  It is at this point that many artists feel like giving up, myself included.  When all the things that once delighted us have now become instruments of self-inflicted torture. 

    The third stage comes when we give up our expectations.  And for many, this becomes much easier to do the older we get.  Maybe it's the sense of time flowing by so quickly we know intuitively that we must let go of how it should be and just enjoy the way it is. 

    It is at this stage when real growth occurs.  When our own style emerges, our own voice, our own success. When we finally embrace who we really are.

    If you are struggling with the second stage of growth -- and I've found that I tend to slip back and forth from the second to the third, and then back to the second -- here are some of the recent insights that have helped me.

    Close your eyes and think back to the reason you embarked on this journey.  Remember the feel of the passion your inner dream ignited.  Believe that you have within yourself the ability to live that dream.

    Then open your hands.  And let it go.

  " Rebirth is a gradual process of giving embrace and welcome to the person we really wish to be."  Marianne Williamson, The Age of Miracles: Embracing the New Midlife.

And the Question Is...

I spent the morning giving a phone interview to an author writing a book about people who change careers at mid-life. And I spent the last two days worrying about what I could say to her.

She wanted to know about my life as an artist. 

She wanted to know what the difficulties were.

What would I say to those who had been "down-sized" and were facing age discrimination, or fear, or lack of finances, who wanted to follow their life dream, or just find out what their dream was, or...

I asked myself,  when had she talked to me before?  Because her questions sounded just like myself in a past life.

I ended up telling her this:

Once I gave up my preconceived expectations, the world of opportunity opened up for me. 

Not necessarily profound.

I hope the book reads better.

As an aside, vacations are wonderful for recharging your enthusiasm and opening yourself to new experiences...like hiking in the rain.  Unfortunately, they have at least a 10 day hangover during which nothing much gets done, like checking stats on your websites, or thinking about posting to your blog, or doing anything else that's productive....sigh...my 10 days are almost up.  Thanks for being patient.  I'll be profound next week. 

Or...maybe not.