defining moments – a resurrection

One of the blogs I read is Elizabeth Genco’s; Elizabeth is a writer who’s also fascinated by the mythic. She’s just written a thought-provoking post on defining moments which reminded me of a similar post I wrote approximately two years ago.

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to resurrect it from my archives, in answer to her request for others’ defining moments. Enjoy!

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I’ve been thinking lately about defining moments. (Maybe this phrase should be written with a capital “D” and “F”, to underscore their importance.) My life lately feels a bit like this right now. For the most part, things are in a welcome state of peaceful equilibrium, like the Balance card in the Goddess Tarot. I tell myself to remember this peaceful state and to cherish it. Having sold Doomed Queens, watching my daughter grow up into a beautiful little girl, feeling connected to a supportive community around me — it’s all good. I want to capture this defining moment, like a snapshot to be pulled out of my memory at will.

Though other defining moments I’ve experienced haven’t always risen out of contentment, they are equally important to me. They’ve helped me to figure out exactly I am, what my path should be. We all experience these moments, these quick-brilliant flashes of mythic living that illuminate our lives. What’s tricky is to recognize them for what they are before they fade into yet-another-detail to be cataloged.

One true story: I think I’ve mentioned in the past here that I lived for a year in England after I sold my first book. It was one of the most magical years of my life — it was the first time that I was able to devote myself entirely to art. And I was living in one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen, surrounded by intensely creative and gifted people.

Sometimes it was hard. Even with a book contract, I still worried about making a living and whether I’d be able to sell future books. I also worried that my art would be beautiful enough to move people as I’d like it to. Would I’d ever be able to reach the artistic goals I yearned for? I pondered this intensely, wondering if I’d chosen the right path. Art can feel like an indulgent proposition, when so much of the world is in trauma.

And one day, the answer came to me when I least expected it.

Of all places, it was on the Underground, London’s equivalent to the NYC subway system. I was in London to show my portfolio around, in hopes of alleviating my ever present “can I make a living as an illustrator” anxiety. Though the Underground was crowded, I managed to score a seat — much welcome, since I was tired from walking around the city all day. I settled in, keeping my eyes low and body tucked tight, to avoid any contact with strangers.

Suddenly, I heard a woman’s voice. “You must be an artist.” Sitting next to me was a middle-aged woman, neatly dressed in business clothing. She continued, “I usually don’t do this, but look at your hands — they’re so long and graceful. You must be an artist.”

Stunned, I nodded yes.

The woman said nothing else to me during that crowded train ride. But what she said was enough.

And what about you? What defining moments do you value?

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