I used to make lists all the time. Well, I kind of still make lists all the time, but they are of practical nature: grocery, to-do, honey-do, kid stuff, nothing reflective. The lists I used to make before I had kids consisted of sappy stuff like “50 Things that I am Grateful for” or “Things to Never Ever Forget” as it related to various relationships, feelings, or milestones in my life. It was like my secret exhaustive (embarrassing) therapy for my angsty younger self. Looking back on them now, it was a pretty good way to document ideas or experiences since I was never the journaling type. My sketchbook was always by my side, and those old books are filled with conversations and impractical lists of more wistful thoughts. Each page was surprisingly indicative of whatever I happened to be tackling at the time.
Anyway, I turned 30 a few weeks ago, and while cleaning up the studio, I ran into a 11 year-old sketchbook that had a “Bucket List” on the first page. It’s completely insane how you really are who you are, and although so much changes over time, I still secretly care about many of this stuff. Even the stupid superficial ones! Unfortunately, taking a a picture of myself on my 30th birthday in a bathroom stall at the Kennedy Center was not on my bucket list, or I’d have more than 12/30 things to cross off.
Oh and by the by, I used to have the most inappropriate language ever. Mouth of a Sailor. I’m much more tame now a days, thanks to many playdates with toddlers and a few years teaching middle school kids, but considering I am transcribing these exactly as my baby-self wrote them, forgive the many choice words.
Things I’ll Do | September 2003
1. Travel to Taxila, Pakistan to see the damn good ceramics.
2. Own and maintain a Greenhouse.
3. Grow a bursting-ly delicious veggie garden and can the shit out of that shit, all Sally Homemaker style.
4. Learn to speak German.
5. See the Nike of Samothrace- I know, so cliche but I’m so obsessed with Hellenistic Sculpture.
6. Spend time living in an Urban City. 7. Marry someone that I know will always be nice to me.
8. Have a fabulous studio in it’s own building in the back (or side) yard of my badass “dream” home.
9. Have three kids.
10. Travel with said future kids to Europe so they can get why I love paint.
11. Live on a Farm, and have goats. Thank you Lusa from Prodigal Summer.
12. Own a Mary Heilmann chair because fuck yes.
13. Learn to Snowboard.
14. Get the Tattoo I designed last year, on my wrist.
15. Own a business that focuses/condenses all of this shit I like to do. 16. Go to Graduate School in NYC and get my MFA.
17. Maintain a well organized closet filled with an efficient and effortless wardrobe.
18. Cut all my hair off, a la pixie.
19. Fly First Class.
20. Make the paintings that I want to make. Maybe I shouldn’t cross this off the list, it seems more of an “Always do this” entry 21. Start using better oil paint without feeling guilty about it.
22. Find an exercise routine that works and stick to it, bajezzzusssss.
Karaoke some Backstreet Boys, because that shit isn’t done enough.
24. Become a Scotch drinker.
25. Learn to swim, not just stay afloat.
26. Travel to Italy (for the plethora of wine and art history).
27. Show my paintings in real galleries, with real people who are interested in art. 28. Learn to cook less boring food. 29. Get a minor in Art History. 30. Get my motorcycle license.
And that concludes my tame exercise in reflection for this Monday evening.