Dunno if I ever told this story before.
It involves a young boy, dressed up and looking quite presentable, taken by his parents to New York city to see all the city's Christmas wonders, circa 1960. The dressed-up store windows, the beauty of Rockefeller Center, the shoppers and the shopping.
Macy's, in all its glory-a sight to behold, enchanting in its commercial finery, bedecked in red ribbon and flecked with artifical snow. Each of the many street-level windows promising the true wonders of the season.
But there was a window that was not Macy's that stood out, across the street and maybe a bit uptown from that giant of Christmas cheer. This was a store that warned "To the Wholesale Trade Only"-in its three windows a scene from the North Pole was described-no Santa in sight, but here were his elves, working away towards that indelible date: December 25th. It was in these windows that the boy was overtaken by the idea that he would like to have these elves- although he could not buy them, he could make his own. This soon turned out to be a little easier in his imagination than it was in reality. Where to start-just how to do it proved a bit more for him than was possible, given the limited tools and materials he could lay his hands on. But the burning idea that he could do this-as a matter of fact, he could make anything he set his mind to, stayed with him. And to this day, many years later, this idea that anything he chooses to make is within his grasp, still excites him and drives him.
It involves a young boy, dressed up and looking quite presentable, taken by his parents to New York city to see all the city's Christmas wonders, circa 1960. The dressed-up store windows, the beauty of Rockefeller Center, the shoppers and the shopping.
Macy's, in all its glory-a sight to behold, enchanting in its commercial finery, bedecked in red ribbon and flecked with artifical snow. Each of the many street-level windows promising the true wonders of the season.
But there was a window that was not Macy's that stood out, across the street and maybe a bit uptown from that giant of Christmas cheer. This was a store that warned "To the Wholesale Trade Only"-in its three windows a scene from the North Pole was described-no Santa in sight, but here were his elves, working away towards that indelible date: December 25th. It was in these windows that the boy was overtaken by the idea that he would like to have these elves- although he could not buy them, he could make his own. This soon turned out to be a little easier in his imagination than it was in reality. Where to start-just how to do it proved a bit more for him than was possible, given the limited tools and materials he could lay his hands on. But the burning idea that he could do this-as a matter of fact, he could make anything he set his mind to, stayed with him. And to this day, many years later, this idea that anything he chooses to make is within his grasp, still excites him and drives him.
You know where this is going: it's (as the expression goes) all about me. Although I didn't realize it then or even until recently, that moment in front of the shop window was my epiphany-the moment that set the rest of my life-I knew then that I wanted to make stuff-and I knew that compromise was ok (even though I never even made a stab at actually creating those elves). But I would thereafter be a creator-able to make things out of no-things.
As I lay daydreaming (or maybe it was falling asleep) last night, I realized that this very same spark/epiphany still sits inside me and will (or at least I hope it will) be with me until I breathe my last. And, although my age has slowed my down a bit, I still jump out of bed thinking about what I'll make today. This is a gift, I know. I'm writing about it in gratitude-to or for whom I dunno, as I'm no believer. But here it is: thank you.
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