I am almost 61 years old. I was treated as if I was a prodigy from as early as I remember or earlier. Odd now that I look back on it as at 61 I am still struggling to find my voice. I read in a New York magazine recently titled “How To Make It In The Art World”, that a college BFF was still in NY making art. When we last parted 1974, he was off to go back to Narlins to marry his girlfriend and go back into banking as he was educated in this at Tulane. So to find out he stayed in NY and is a well known artist and teacher at the New York Institute of Art ( I admit I haven’t heard of it) – but anything in NY is heads and tails above any other school outside of NY save a few exceptions of course. Yet he was a serious and is a serious artist and I am still looking for my “voice”. Yet here we are. Two guys 38 years later who are making art. As a living. Different. He has works in the Met!! No shit and the Whitney, according to his web site. I have a piece in a Boston Museum’s permanent collection but I have many pieces in private and corporate collections throughout the world. Yet I am envious. I can’t seem to make enough money to be beyond the worry of a middle class guy. I mean I am lucky I live in a resort community and my wife has provided the steady income we have needed for over twenty years try as I may to make a buck, but still, hey, 61 really when is it going to happen?? Then I thought that it is or has happened. I have commissions, I have the respect of my peers, I have had some very successful projects and I have fans. I just have to work every day. Then I have to step back and with the understanding I have acquired I realized I am an artist and everything I do whether it is getting dressed, having lunch with friends, being with my wife, teaching my children, taking care of my parents, I do it with the mind of an artist. I approach my life, the mundane the routine with the mind of an artist. I don’t have to wait, I have always been AN ARTIST!