Finding myself at thirty

September 21, 2013

  If my eighteen year old self looked at me now, I think it would be pretty happy about how far I've come.  Not to say that I am as successful as I thought I would be at thirty, but I don't think my eighteen year old self would recognize me and that's not a bad thing.

   At eighteen I loved art, thought I was going to college to major in English and maybe become a writer, thought I would be married by 23 and have kids by 25, own a house by 30 and be set with a career, a family, the whole works.  Well, I'm thirty and the only thing that seemed to stick was that I love art.  And really that isn't a bad thing.  

  At thirty I am knee deep in owning and running an ice sculpting business, which if you knew me you would never expect me to do.  I have lived in another state in order to learn my craft.  I have been able to participate in shooting two commercials, which if you really knew me, than you'd know I usually don't do well with attention.  And I am ever so slowly, I'm talking very slowly, starting to get some consistent ice sculpting work.  And though the prospect of having kids is a ways away and owning a house even farther away, finding myself at thirty really hasn't been so bad.