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Where There’s Light


Sometimes I think the powers that be are smart asses.

When I was a kid I loved to draw.  The first thing I ever drew was a field mouse from a fairy tale I can’t remember. I do remember the field mouse though. I remember how natural it felt to draw and that the end result didn’t stink.

I drew in high school, and, while my work will never be mistaken for a great master’s, I could make a tree look like a tree.  I had a few fantasies about art school, but, because I lacked the courage to forge my own path at the time,  they never went beyond fantasies.

Then a few years ago, I fell back into drawing.  And I can still make a tree look like a tree.  And this time, I have had the courage to keep forging ahead and keeping it part of my life.

And then the powers that be said, “Hah!”

June brought news of a degenerative disorder in my right eye.  The left eye, not wanting to be left out of the regular poking and prodding the right one now gets, decided over the weekend to join the party.

Part of me wondered if the great guardian of good art in the sky was trying to tell me something.  At first I though it might be trying to protect the world from my doodles.  It might be, but, over the last few years, I’ve developed a stronger ability to ignore the inner critic who whispers these possibilities in my ear.

So as I drove back today, thinking about adaptive devices and getting my 4th lens prescription in 6 months,  I decided to find  a more positive message in the diagnosis.   It’s the message that says to make hay – or doodles of hay for as long as the sun finds away into my lenses; to make every moment for as long it’s possible.

The future did get a bit cloudier today, but sometimes things are clearer without the white hot sun shining on them.  So as long as there’s any light – clouded or clear, I will focus on what is possible now and not on what might not be possible down the road.