Benchmark's of an artists life

The speaker reflects on how their daily routine has changed as their children have grown up and moved away. They used to drive their kids to school every day, but now only have one child left in grade 12. The speaker realizes that their routine will soon come to an end as their last child finishes school. They express a mix of pride and sadness about this transition. As an artist, the speaker also discusses how their life will change without the responsibility of getting their kids to school on time. They will have more freedom to pursue their artistic ventures. However, they also feel a sense of loss and must reevaluate their path as an artist. The speaker encourages others to be careful what they wish for because dreams can come true. They express a commitment to continue painting for as long as they live. The speaker acknowledges the need to maintain a connection with reality and other people outside of their artistic world. They express a desire to become a "normal" person again an As I do every single day of the week, I rise up, have my coffee, and get ready and head out, usually sitting in my driver's seat, waiting for one of my children to be ready to go to school. It's something I've been doing for many years now. But that routine has been changing gradually over time. It's no longer three, because one of them moved away, way out to the Maritimes. It's no longer two, because the next one went off to college or university. And now it's just one. Well, even that, it seems, the time is short and the days are numbered. He's nearing the end of grade 12, just a few weeks left. And this routine that I have been following for all of these many years, and so proudly enjoyed and look forward to, is coming to an end. Now another normal is sitting in my driver's seat, waiting on the driveway. They're not always out there on time. We're never ever late, but sometimes you have to hustle your kids up a little bit to make sure that we're not late. I text him and I say, Nathan, are you coming? I'm out here waiting. There's a long pause. And I text again. I'm here for you, whenever you're ready. Another pause. Then a text from Nathan that says, H-U-H. In other words, huh? I think for a moment, maybe he just woke up. Maybe he's still dreaming. Oh, my goodness, we're going to be late for school. And then another text from Nathan, Dad, it's Saturday. Welcome to another episode of the Lost Paddler podcast series on RobertMcAfee.com. These are the day-to-day activities and goings-on of a full-time artist. And today I reflect on the fact that as your children leave, and as life changes, the markers that help you know which day of the week it is, in fact, what week of the month it is, at what point in your life are you right now, are all changing. There was three. At first, taking my daughter to school, and then my next son, and then my next son. And for the better part of the last 25 years, that's the way it's been. And I do it proudly. Not only that, but I look forward to it. I've always loved those precious moments. You know, when they come home and they're running around and they're busy, you don't get much of a chance to talk, but in those precious moments in the car, or walking to school as we did when they were tiny children, there are things that are said. There are conversations that are had, and memories being made. But now, it's all coming to an end. In fact, this third one, Nathan, he's 18 years old, and he's nearing the end of his grade 12 year. He's done great. He's earned himself a scholarship at Queens University, and I could not be more proud of him. But it's a bittersweet moment, because I realize in just a few weeks' time, this clock, this benchmark, this thing that I have always thought of as, well, the way that I know Monday from Saturday, Saturday from Sunday, Sunday from Monday again, well, it's about to change forever. And with it will come new challenges. Forever, over the last 25 years, I've always known that I had to be back on time for Monday morning to take my kids to school, heading off on artist ventures and taking pictures and doing plein air sketches. It is pretty much a normal life for an artist, but I have those reminders, those things that keep me from wandering far off the path, too far, too long. But now, things are changing. There's a bit of a melancholy in the air. You see, every morning, I look forward to that walk or that drive, and now it's going to change. And now, when I take off for a one-day or a two-day or a three-day excursion, I don't really have to think about when to be back or who has to be at school on Monday morning. I really don't have anything to consider but where to go next, what will be my next stop on the road, the next painting, the next discovery. And it's bittersweet because I have longed for those kinds of moments of freedom. I have longed for the untethered, being unleashed on the road as far as I can go. But on the other hand, I must say goodbye to a period of time in my life when I did something every day that was so routine yet so beautiful. And it will be done and gone forever. My children seem to all gravitate to places far away. One of them has moved to the Maritimes and has been there for so long now that, in fact, she's more of a Maritimer than anything else. The next one, who knows where he will go, but he has his sights set on the big city, for sure. Musical aspirations, professional aspirations, and so he will follow his path in life. And I wish him well and I bless him. Now the third one, just beginning a long education, post-high school education, I should say. And he's looking at many years to do the thing that he wants to do. So life will change now forever. And as an artist, I must retool somewhat and I must reconsider my path and decide how best to focus and to continue fulfilling this dream that I live every day, this wonderful pleasure, this wonderful privilege that I get to enjoy every single day. When you consider your dreams and the things that you ponder day in and day out, Oh, I wish that I could do this or I wish that I could do that. Oh, I wonder what my life would be like if I could just become this or live in that place. You must be careful, I would say, because sometimes when you wish for something, it might come true. If you pray for something, it probably will come true. As in my case, I always dreamed to be a full-time artist, and while there are certainly no regrets and there's no looking back, I'm on this road now and it will go and go and go for as long as I'm alive. In fact, I don't ever intend to retire from this job. I may do it officially, I may do it sort of on the record, but as an artist, I will continue to paint for as long as there's breath in my body. However, when you make such a decision, when you make such a commitment, it comes with responsibility. And one of the responsibilities it comes with is keeping yourself in touch with the normal, with reality, with other people, and in fact, having a social life. In fact, my goodness, there are humans out there, huh? I really need to connect with somebody today because I really, I don't know what's going on. I haven't got a clue. I'm so enveloped in these trees and lakes and rivers. In this brush that I hold, in this canvas that I stand in front of, I need to remove myself from this environment and go out there and become a normal person, something that I was once before, but seem to be no longer the new normal, I guess. And so, and so I shall. And I welcome you on this journey of The Lost Paddler.