Being really good at something is not the same as being a genius. We all have potential greatness in us. There’s something inside that we might not even be aware of, and it just needs an opportunity to manifest itself through us. Maybe you have the potential to be a great glass blower or helicopter pilot. If you never try those things, you’ll never know. There will be a learning curve, so you will have unsuccessful attempts along the way. They’re not really unsuccessful. They are opportunities to learn. I was talking with a friend about Tao Te Ching, and she commented that Lao Tzu was really dialed in when he wrote that. Einstein must have really been dialed in when he thought of e=mc2, or Darwin when evolution by natural selection dawned on him.

Most of us don’t theorize revolutionary ideas like that, but someone does.

A few artists like Leonardo da Vinci would be considered geniuses, but I think we can all be dialed in.. That is personal and will mean something different to everyone. Because of this, we can enlighten and inspire each other.

“Look, it’s all full of colors!”

I’ve been inspired and empowered by many people, beginning with my family.

My mother taught me to be present and interested. She made me feel loved and important to her.

My father taught me to be interested in a vast array of topics. He would look up into the night sky and point out constellations. He always seemed to draw a spiritual lesson. He asked questions that made me think. We lived in a big old house. The door from the dining room to the hall was closed, and there was a marked difference in temperature from the warm dining room to the cold hall at the bottom of the stairway. If I were to put a candle in that open doorway, which direction would the flame lean?

One of us parked our car in the garage in winter, and another parked outside. Everything else being equal, who would get better gas mileage, and why?

What kind of animal lives in a dog house?

He is interested in aviation, language and accents, travel, history, music, astronomy, anatomy and physiology, and shared facts and life lessons with us whenever they came to his mind.

My brother is generous with his interests. I’ve heard it said that an interesting person is one who is interested in others. My brother joined me in my pursuit of our family tree. He pays attention to detail in a way that doesn’t come naturally to me. I seek out people to talk to which may not always be comfortable for him.

He took up a challenge from one of my blog posts and drew the same thing over and over, and shared the results with me.

He validated me at a time when I felt lost and defensive.

Each of my brothers is brilliant and creative, and each one has unique areas of interest and knowledge. Each of them is an inspiration to me.

Shape inspired by an ancient Egyptian kohl pot

I’m trying to eradicate the old way of thinking. There are things ingrained in me that are not kind, and yet it’s hard to let go of them. The messages were reinforced throughout my early life. Humility is one of those double edged swords.

It is not boastful or arrogant to recognize your gift and embrace it. It is not virtuous or helpful to be self deprecating.

If you can find your niche and then cultivate your gifts, you can grow and bloom in your own skin. You can do some good for yourself and for others.

A humble person with an extraordinary talent can be generous with their knowledge. They can excel without competition, and mentor others in their field of expertise.

The way you learn things at first can become cemented into your foundation. It is then difficult to remove. Sometimes, the rains and winds of life erode the mortar and it crumbles very easily. Other times, a sledgehammer will clear the way. You can change. You can grow.

My first college drawing instructor taught us his version of gesture drawing, and that is how I made sketches for years after. I remember what he taught me, though I no longer sketch that way. There is nothing wrong with it, I just do it differently now.

Sometimes scientific discoveries reveal truths that change our thinking. Some people may reject the facts because they are comfortable with the old school of thought… because they were taught it first. Maybe they derive benefits from the outdated information, and the facts pose a threat.

My mind is malleable. I’ve dragged a lot of old files to the trash, and I empty it regularly.

I accommodate those beliefs that make the most sense to me. I can only believe what I find believable. I can enjoy fiction as long as it is presented as fiction.

It is the eve of a new calendar year. Let’s be kind to ourselves and to each other. Let’s be generous with our gifts. Many people knocked us down in their attempt to feel superior, and I’m afraid we’ve believed a lot of those messages. Let’s brandish a jackhammer and write new messages in the wet cement of 2021. I am creative. I have a gift. I have a story that is worth telling.

I made a jar out of clay, and then over about three days, I made a lid for it. It fit so perfectly, and was integrated into the lines of the jar. Today I broke it. I was so disappointed! I tried to tweak it, even though I thought it looked perfect.

I didn’t even get a picture of it.

This happens. Things break. I don’t leave well enough alone. I disappoint myself. I try again. The cat stole my sponge again.

That’s a fitting end for this year, I guess.

I’m making a new lid, and we’re about to start a new year.

I’m not looking for some magical new beginning. We continue where we left off, and try to do our best. It’s hard to feel hopeful when so much of the news is bad. I try to maintain hope right here, and manifest positive change within my own reach. I believe this is possible.

I’ve been fortunate to have full time work during this global pandemic. I have more interests than I have time to devote to them, and a mind that is open to learning new things. Like pottery. Like the Finnish language. Like my family tree.

I find my own thoughts to be entertaining. As I generally do in winter, I make plans for the places we will visit and things we will do in the spring and summer.

As a younger person, I don’t think I had a big picture plan for my life. I just kind of let one day fade into the next. Once I got into college, I made plans for where I would spend the school year or the summer, but I really think my style was to watch how things unfolded. I could abandon anything. I saw myself as an artist, but I didn’t envision myself accomplishing, or succeeding at anything. That came later.

I’m still kind of that way. I don’t move around anymore, but I’m still not very businesslike in my approach to life.

What I’ve always wanted to do is to express myself through art. It wasn’t something I decided to do, I just kept trying it. The process of expressing involves internal archaeology and philosophy. I have to know what makes me tick. It’s very individual and I thought that made me unique.

I no longer believe that I am unique. I’m made of other people. Those who have lived their life, and have passed their DNA on to me, live in me now. I’m not me. I’m a combination of them. We’re a biomass that oozes from prehistory into the present day, an unbroken chain of heredity that, for this moment, culminates in me.

I am 60 years old, with no offspring to carry my progeny into the future.

When I adopted my kids, I adopted their biological families, too.

From the very beginning, we agreed that they would maintain contact wherever possible. In one case, we had the challenge of a closed adoption. We eventually made that contact, and had an amazing trip visiting them.

With others, we make frequent video calls.

This week, I was able to track down the ancestors of my youngest two, and discovered a colorful history woven over the past five hundred years.

They are now part of my family tree.

Through my grandson, I am related to half of the county, even though I was an immigrant to Minnesota over 30 years ago.

If my offspring had survived in utero, and grown to pass on my genes, I wouldn’t have the wonderful kids that have come into my life through other means.

This is not uncommon. My great grandmother was adopted. My youngest two kids’ great grandmother was adopted.

This is how our story plays out.

Traits are inherited, but they can be passed on in other ways, too.

I want to raise my kids to believe in themselves, and to dig deep into their history, unearthing the things that make them unique, and the things that make them so much like the rest of us. In this way, we can tell our story and it will be authentic and valuable.

A new year is just around the corner. I do not make New Years resolutions. To me, they just set you up to feel bad when you break them. Changes don’t happen with the click of the second hand at midnight. I want to accomplish new things. I want to make healthier choices. I want to be more kind to myself and others. I want to implement changes slowly, like building a wall out of bricks. I want deliberate change to be cemented into me so that it will last a lifetime, or until I take a wrecking ball to it because I found something even better.

When we develop some proficiency in a particular skill or field, we can teach it by doing it, and allowing someone else in. Someone who cares to learn it, like we did. You don’t have to be trained as a teacher in order to mentor someone.

You can pass along what you know, and you can learn more in the process.

I’ve learned to do things because other people have been generous and patient with me. That is something I’d like to do in the coming year.

I don’t think I have a creative zone. That’s my baseline. On my days off, I get out of bed and go to my studio. I have ongoing projects that I think about while I’m laying in bed. There are always a few canvases in progress, and pots waiting for that perfect hardness to draw on. My idle hands will pick up a pen and fill sketchbook pages with no worry or pressure about the product. There is nothing to lose. I don’t need to impress anyone. I don’t have to be right.

If you were to ask me why I do something a certain way, the answer I give you may have never occurred to me before. I just needed someone to ask me so that I could put that reason into words. You will have unintentionally opened a door or window for me.

Sometimes, I’ve got an answer ready because there are hidden messages or attached memories, and I’m glad you asked.

It’s important for me to share my work with others, because art is a language. It communicates if it finds an audience.