“When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

Another day, another prompt that got my attention. But oh, this one made me so happy — and unlike yesterday, I knew the answer immediately.

When I was five, I wanted to be an artist. And when I was ten. And fifteen. And twenty. And thirty, forty, and now.

Yep, I would still love that.

Obviously that’s not how my life has unfolded. I became a mother when I was very young and, well, life happened. Bills needed to be paid, children needed to be supported, and a totally different education and career path was followed to meet those needs.

But art has been and will continue to be my constant companion and first and truest love.

But of course it’s not too late. After all, Sidney Poitier didn’t publish his first novel until he was 85. The guy who founded KFC was 62. The guy who founded Starbucks was 51.

I’m not looking to change my profession (I like having my bills paid on the regular), but I would like to see what I can do with a hobby. Who knows! Guess I gotta just start.

On an unrelated note, aren’t my neighbors’ trees ridiculously lovely? That color is magic.