At 2:52 AM last night I was staring at myself in the mirror.
I was up at that hour because I couldn't resume sleep without going to the bathroom. After washing my hands I looked up at my reflection. I had heavy bags under my eyes, and my hair was all matted, and I looked compeltely... old.
It occurred to me that I was up at that hour because I was old, and I looked old, and I felt old. I have a mortgage and home repair worries and a retirement plan. If my life were a movie, I'd be in the middle of a montage spanning my time between 24-year-old newlywed Nick and 40-year-old jaded Nick. Time is running short. Tomorrow I'll be stuck.
So I need to reach for my dreams now. My singular dream, actually: to be a freelance illustrator. I'll expound on why in a future post, but for now suffice it to say that it's my dream job. And as I looked into the tired eyes gazing back at me, I resolved that it's time to get started.
I'm giving myself eighteen months. On June 1, 2010 I need to decide if this is worth pursuing. I'll use the interim to develop my chances. I'll need to:
1. Create a style,
2. Refine a process,
3. Construct a portfolio, and
4. Find a way to get paid.
If I'm well on my way to this eighteen months from now, I would consider myself ready. Join me for the journey.
Foux da fa fa!