There's one more horizon out there, one more horizon that you have to make for yourself and let other people discover it.
I want to go back to work. It makes no difference how good you are, if you're an artist there is always more to do, more ideas, more expressions, more experiences to describe, more truth to tell, more wisdom to share. The intelligence of the universe, of all creation, is unlimited, therefore there is no limit to the ideas which can be discovered and expressed.
I knew a broadcaster named Chester. He was very good. He was the only announcer I ever knew who could tell exactly what time it was without looking at the clock.
One day he retired. His family had grown, he had a healthy pension and some very solid investments. So off he went into the world of freedom and financial independence. It wasn't long before he was back for a visit and saying that he still had ideas inside of him that needed to come out.
I called my friend Diane last night. She and I did a season of stock together years ago. She is also living in a place, in her case Florida, that she wants to get out of. We talked of meeting up in New York and doing "The Gin Game" together. That would be a sight to see. Another friend, Charles, and I would like to do"The Dresser" some day, another sight to behold.
Me best memories are on a stage somewhere, the only place I ever felt at home. So here I am stuck in a nowhere town and itching to get out and back to New York where the auditions are. But I'm also stuck in a body that doesn't work and needs a complete overhaul. Alas, alack and woe is me.
I started painting in New York because I was encouraged to by one of my art instructors and by fellow artists. I always get a chuckle when I remember an actor I used to know who looked at the price of the paints I was using (Golden, the best acrylic paint in my opinion, and, no, they're not paying me, unless they want to, of course) and said "This is a very expensive hobby." To him anything other than acting is a hobby.
I started writing about 6 years ago. When I became unable to work as an actor because of physical problems, the only thing I had besides paints and brushes was my computer, which was a gift from a dear friend. I wrote a few sentences now and then and posted them. I'm also an avid reader. So I began to jot down quotes, and write comments about them. Then one day Linda in Washington State discovered me, told on me, people started sending me comments and that's how Vagabond Journeys was born, and now there are over 1,700 issues of it.
In my profile it used to say I'm a retired actor and broadcaster, but I realized not long ago that I am not retired as an artist so why should I say so. I am looking at the horizons I have made for myself. Ingrained into the creative process of an artist, like a tattoo, an extra rib or a sixth finger is an intense and controlling necessity to bring those horizons alive and palpitating, waiting for others to discover.
There is one more horizon, and when that is reached, there's one more, and then there's one more and then....
I'm stuck in a neighborhood I don't like, in a town I don't like, rattled with illnesses and no health insurance on a meager income and I think I going to get back to New York and start appearing on the stage, my home, again. Who are you kidding, DB?
Some day soon I'll do it. Watch me.
Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never Give up