Opportunities to do what it feels like you were meant to do...

So I write a good bit about about some of the more mental and spiritual aspects of trying to follow a dream, for lack of a better term. It's now been more than a year since I realized that being a working artist is what I am "doing" with my life.

So far, so good. No one at the Golden house is going hungry. But it still feels like there is a long way to go before being what I wished for will make a comfortable lifestyle for us. Of course, being a working artist has removed a lot of the stress and turmoil that is built into being a freelance graphic designer, so, in a huge way, we are already living a more comfortable life. A shift in attitude from "There is always something else I need to be doing for work" to "This is exactly what I am supposed to be doing right now" has resulted, and all kinds of opportunities present themselves.

The most fulfilling of those has been the opportunity to give a piece of my art work to someone for whom I truly feel it was made (plus the opportunity to have my almost six-year old daughter at my elbow as I type this, telling me the words I am typing, "You writed (sic) 'good' in your sentence didn't you?").

About 2 years ago, I created "A Good Robot Would Do Wonders for Your Soul", as a companion piece to my "Rayguns Don't Kill People". At the time, I chose text that I thought was a play on the idea that a traditionally "soul-less" oject, a robot, could be good for your soul. These little text snippets that I use pop into my head, and I know that somewhere, out there, that the art and the text will click with someone and have some meaning to them.

If you go deeper, I would say that robots and depicting them has been very good for my soul, as I now am able to finally be a working artist, and that drawing a few robots has allowed me to draw many other things for which I have affection. But I don't believe that to be the true meaning anymore.

Many folks have connected with "A Good Robot...", and I think we all have different reasons for connecting with the piece. Once again though, a stranger reached out and delivered a message. The message in this case was the answer to the question: What am I here to do?

My thanks go out to Bryn for helping to get "A Good Robot..." into to the hands of the two people that I feel somehow it was made for.

I will warn you, this link takes you to a blog that will break your heart. But it will also inspire you, and may remind you that your own troubles are small. I am linking you to the entry from 11 weeks ago. I recommend you read the entries in order.

Matt, Liz and Madeline