Your story reminded me of a time years ago when I was painting and working under the mentorship of the Canadian painter Duncan de Kergommeaux. One day, I was working on a painting of mine in his studio. I thought I was alone. Suddenly, a voice from behind me said, “You are a painter.” It was Duncan. Being young and praised by my mentor, my head swelled. Duncan followed with, “I didn’t say you were a great painter. I said you were a painter.” He explained that most of his other students saw painting as a subject on their timetable. They came at the allotted time painted and left until the following week. He recognized that I came to the studio to paint at almost every free opportunity. He also said that it didn’t matter whether I was good or not. The important thing was that I came to paint. Fame he told me was out of my hands. It depended on so many other external circumstances and opinions. I’ve never forgot that lesson. I eventually became a storyteller and writer. I’ve been working at my craft for nearly 25 years. Fame is irrelevant. What matters is the joy I experience at creating and following my passion and curiosity.
Dear Michael - how lovely to see you here! Thank you for stopping by! That is such a brilliant lesson to have learnt. I love hearing that you experience such joy creating and following your passion and curiosity. Thanks for sharing this, Michael. Hope you are well! 💙
This was such an interesting morning read with my coffee—especially all the musings on fame and writing and youth vs. now. I also enjoyed your poem with its play on Warhol 15.
So timely Kathryn, my famous death guru. Yesterday my Substact, Golden Mean, got a new subscriber. I get about one a week. I stopped writing last July. I told my paid “thanks” and to stop paying me.
Things happen. I keep thinking. I love the freedom from self imposed deadlines and trying to be clever with words. I keep wondering. I have more stories to tell. Cinny, my love and sidekick, will edit my drivel.
What about a series of the dozens of jobs I’ve had. Carrying chamber pots, hauling in goal, providing funeral services for the poor…..I am talking to myself. How about the idea centered on the Morse Code.
Maybe I should welcome my paid folks back. Maybe my ship will come in. Maybe I will become famous. Late life fame!
Kathryn, you got me going. I want to be as famous as you. I can say that I have communicated with the KK! Maybe someone will say, “I actually knew that ‘average and ordinary’ guy from Indiana.
Roger, I say we keep on living and keep on writing until we die. If you have stories, absolutely share them! And with Cinny by your side, you can't go wrong! 💙 Thank you, as always, for taking time out of your day to stop by, read and share your thoughts.
I've never understood why anyone who has a passion for any kind of creative pursuit would want to be famous - it seems to me that fame could only get in the way. When I started out, my agent sold half a dozen children's books for me in the first 18 months or so and then I joyfully discovered educational publishing, and honed my craft in the calm quiet there, where the brand is the publisher and the author can just write. Also immortality through writing? That's a collective thing - all our voices together make the song that carries on
Hi Jenny - Thank you for stopping by, reading and sharing your response here. I love the 'calm quiet' you have curated for your creative life! I like what you say about immortality as a collective. There's a certain generosity required here, maybe, to create as individuals and also to create as a collective. 💙
Your story reminded me of a time years ago when I was painting and working under the mentorship of the Canadian painter Duncan de Kergommeaux. One day, I was working on a painting of mine in his studio. I thought I was alone. Suddenly, a voice from behind me said, “You are a painter.” It was Duncan. Being young and praised by my mentor, my head swelled. Duncan followed with, “I didn’t say you were a great painter. I said you were a painter.” He explained that most of his other students saw painting as a subject on their timetable. They came at the allotted time painted and left until the following week. He recognized that I came to the studio to paint at almost every free opportunity. He also said that it didn’t matter whether I was good or not. The important thing was that I came to paint. Fame he told me was out of my hands. It depended on so many other external circumstances and opinions. I’ve never forgot that lesson. I eventually became a storyteller and writer. I’ve been working at my craft for nearly 25 years. Fame is irrelevant. What matters is the joy I experience at creating and following my passion and curiosity.
I love your writing, Katherine. Thank you.
Dear Michael - how lovely to see you here! Thank you for stopping by! That is such a brilliant lesson to have learnt. I love hearing that you experience such joy creating and following your passion and curiosity. Thanks for sharing this, Michael. Hope you are well! 💙
That was fun! I want to try my hand at a sestina now!
Hey, hey! Enjoy! And let me know how you get on with the sestina! Thanks for stopping by and reading! 💙
You’ll be forever famous and known as KK who launched a thousand careers!
Thank you for this ❤️🙏❤️
Thank you, Marco! 💙
This was such an interesting morning read with my coffee—especially all the musings on fame and writing and youth vs. now. I also enjoyed your poem with its play on Warhol 15.
xoxo
Oh, how lovely I got to spend time with you during your morning coffee! Thank you for reading and taking time to pop into the comments. 💙
So timely Kathryn, my famous death guru. Yesterday my Substact, Golden Mean, got a new subscriber. I get about one a week. I stopped writing last July. I told my paid “thanks” and to stop paying me.
Things happen. I keep thinking. I love the freedom from self imposed deadlines and trying to be clever with words. I keep wondering. I have more stories to tell. Cinny, my love and sidekick, will edit my drivel.
What about a series of the dozens of jobs I’ve had. Carrying chamber pots, hauling in goal, providing funeral services for the poor…..I am talking to myself. How about the idea centered on the Morse Code.
Maybe I should welcome my paid folks back. Maybe my ship will come in. Maybe I will become famous. Late life fame!
Kathryn, you got me going. I want to be as famous as you. I can say that I have communicated with the KK! Maybe someone will say, “I actually knew that ‘average and ordinary’ guy from Indiana.
I yes, your poem was gutsy and good.
Roger
Roger, I say we keep on living and keep on writing until we die. If you have stories, absolutely share them! And with Cinny by your side, you can't go wrong! 💙 Thank you, as always, for taking time out of your day to stop by, read and share your thoughts.
I've never understood why anyone who has a passion for any kind of creative pursuit would want to be famous - it seems to me that fame could only get in the way. When I started out, my agent sold half a dozen children's books for me in the first 18 months or so and then I joyfully discovered educational publishing, and honed my craft in the calm quiet there, where the brand is the publisher and the author can just write. Also immortality through writing? That's a collective thing - all our voices together make the song that carries on
Hi Jenny - Thank you for stopping by, reading and sharing your response here. I love the 'calm quiet' you have curated for your creative life! I like what you say about immortality as a collective. There's a certain generosity required here, maybe, to create as individuals and also to create as a collective. 💙