Last night I found myself at a sports event for the second time in my life. I am admittedly sports illiterate, so I wasn't always following what happened. But I assumed that it was plausible to say we had made a goal or a good block when the crowd of “cheerleaders” (a.k.a the cough.super.cough.hot.cough. BYU-H men's soccer team) looked close to shouting their heads off, and doing very un-manly things like hugging each other.
So there I was spending my Friday night sitting with a whole row of bleachers to myself. (Date night, what's that?) Spastically attempting to capture with my camera lens the raw human emotions elicited from the arc of one rubber ball. Trying to ignore the fact that suspicious smacking noises kept emanating from the direction of the couple seated a few feet away. Maybe it was a bit of a lonely way to spend Friday night, but we all find joy in our lives through different means.
Some of us find it through physical activity, competition and team-work. Some of us find it through social interaction. Okay, well maybe this one is true for everybody but some of us are just better at being socially interactive. Then some of us see the pain, joy, and beauty in the world around us and desire to capture it so that it becomes a common language; a form of communication that speaks to all of us no matter our back-grounds and interests. That is the life of an artist. Being an artist you often find yourself figuratively or literally sitting alone on the bleachers, but when you commit yourself to your discipline you find a love that will never leave you and a silent voice louder than any other.