There is a lot of grace in the exchanging of gratitude. I always wonder whom to thank for the birds, the stars, the sound of my kids laughing, the tree on my street. . .one that every autumn, without fail, turns into this luminous yellow fire, leaf by leaf and for the cool collection of ’70s funk and slow jams on my iPod.
I try not to measure this world by what I don’t have and be grateful for what I do have. Sometimes people will ask me where I want to “take my career” next. The truth is, right here is fine. If you’d have told me 30 years ago that on this day I would have six of my etchings hanging in the Art Institute of Chicago in the same show with David Hockney and Robert Rauschenberg, Alex Katz, and Picasso, I wouldn’t have believed you. It didn’t seem possible. But I got here.
And here is just fine.
A lot of you helped me along the way, and I hope I thanked you. And if I didn’t, then I’m doing it now.
The show is called, “The Artist and the Poet.”
I haven’t gone to see it yet, truth be told I never thought I’d get to hang in this amazing institution in my lifetime–or deathtime for that matter.
Chances are when I roll up on my pieces, I don’t know what will happen. There is a good chance I will bitch-up and start crying. There is also the very good chance I’ll find my effort wanting. Whatever happens, I want to be ready for it.
But for over 30 years I’ve been doing this for a life.
It isn’t a “living,” it’s a life. And if you’re reading this, chances are, in some way, you helped me get here. Thank you for walking the miles with me.