Musing on my older, sculptor self

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.



This seems like a tender subject. Do you think that you will sculpt again? Is there anything stopping you now? I have just pledged to revisit my art self because she always saves me. She makes sense of what I don’t understand. I am going to begin my day at the gym at 5am, then work my eight hours then come home and work on papier mache sculptures….I need this type of expression in my life again. What did you get out of sculpting, Justin?
Just curious, as usual…


I had no idea you enjoyed sculpture, although it sheds a lot of light on the 5:30 drives to Pittsboro for our little crowd. Anyway, the grass is greener. Before I left for Chapel Hill, I spent a bit of time wondering if it was wise to have done art first and and not have found a profession until I was nearing 30. Who knows?

I don’t have a good answer other than I don’t know. I’m not sure sculpting is as important to me as it was. It made sense in a certain time and context from which I’m now two times removed. I’m looking for things that make sense now.

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