On the way home from the grocery store, picking up some fruit for the week, I had a thought that was half a wish and half a wonder.

Why hadn’t I delayed college to continue taking sculpture classes at the Elizabet Ney Art Museum? Just to see how much farther I could have gone. Several things precluded this from happening, most prominently the desire in me to strike out on my own. But then I wonder if the opportunity had offered itself, would that have altered the landscape? I know it was never really a tangible option, those classes were just a fun diversion, they made sense in the context of my focus on art in high school. And now, (though I realize it would have been highly improbable), given the chance to take a road less traveled, to focus on art and my eye and my technical skill in the absense of so many other distractions, I might have advised my younger self differently.

I don’t remember if my last class was that spring or the summer before I left for Chapel Hill, but I do remember that it was that summer I decided I would major in art because no other “lifestyle” would be more challenging. I also remember there was a moment when I realized my school schedule ruled out taking any classes at the Ney in the foreseeable future. I felt a kind of loss. I think my dad may have recommended bringing some wax to sculpt at school that I could cast during the summers. But I never came home during the summers. I took a few art classes, but I didn’t major in art. And I haven’t done any sculpting since.