Autodidact Crash Course

It’s been a fruitful week.

Concerns over the path I walk trip me up now and then. In one hand I clutch a hard won bachelors degree. In the other is a job I cannot seem to part with. To put it bluntly, I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. That sparked the notion to re-enter college (again) and get my master’s degree (in______???)

Fortunately I ran this wonderful idea past my buddy Kim who had the wherewithal to ask; “And your goal is….?”

Uh…dammit!

I figured I needed the discipline school offered. The regiment of assignments and the banter of critical thinking at scheduled times under florescent buzz. Of course I am inherently lazy and whiny and could see myself resenting such an expensive commitment. Don’t get me wrong. School is good for me. There are only a few brain cells swimming in my gray matter and they need all the nurture and polishing I can offer. So I look in the mirror and ask myself, ‘really, Laura, honey, what is it you want to do?’

Easy. I want to write and make art. Yeah! End of blog!

But what kind of writing? What kind of art? Oh… There has to be a better way. I’m not sure if I have found it but I set my path course onto autodidactic.

I joined book clubs. I created a mantra of read-write-draw-daily. Every day. Even it’s crap. I journal. I scribble. I have two books on my nightstand, a ‘deep’ read (currently ‘The Center Cannot Hold’ by Elyn Saks) and a ‘fun’ read (one of the Sookie Stackhouse books by Charlaine Harris). I seek out the writers and the artists. This week alone I have seen Roy Toft (photographer and author of Osa; Where the Rainforest Meets the Sea), Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love), Patti Smith (musician/author), and Paul Chan, multimedia artist.

Los Angeles is a blessing. There is constant access to events, quick portals to meet these other artists and hear their voices as I search for my own. It enriches and inspires me as much as any class room with no pressure for tuition or homework. And there is plenty of time later to create on my own.

Honestly, I can’t tell you want I want to be when I grow up. But hey, I’m 39. I got plenty of time. No, seriously, I do. C’mon ladies, we have our whole lives ahead of us to be anything we want. Age does not paint us into corners, it is a weak excuse for not doing what we want to do.