I am grateful that, from a very young age, I had art in my life. And by art I mean magic.
When you are a little kid and you watch your father carve a cat's head out of a block of stone, or a herd of horses from a block of wood, then you grow up believing that magic is possible. Magic, transformation - the stuff of mythology and fairy tales. It takes a lot of time and effort and sweat and tears and blood, this type of magic. It is not for the faint of heart. There is discouragement and disappointment along the way, but if you keep chipping away, you just might get there. And when you do, all the work was worth it. And isn't it the work itself, the act of creation, that keeps us coming back?