So I realized something this weekend, in point of fact, I realized it this evening, not 30 minutes ago.

I am a failure. In the one area of my life that I should have put my all and been a success, I am a complete, utter, contemptible failure.

Tonight was an artists reception for Rudy Medlock, former chair of the art department at the college where I studied. This was his last year teaching at the college and there was a special art alumni reunion in his honor.

The man who started it all

Rudy started the art program at the college, and for 37 years was a fixture there. He was the reason I entered into the college and chose art as my field. He found a scholarship for me, so that I could get by that first year. He believed in me, in my voice and my talent.

Tonight as he spoke, tears of joy and pain streaming down his face, I realized that I had failed him miserably. I had failed myself miserably. I gave up on my art; I gave in and checked out. When I went to thank this man, my mentor and guide for some of my study, he hugged me and told me I am all that I was supposed to be. His words of love and acceptance cut me to the quick, since I know they are completely untrue.

Somedays, it really sucks to be me

I am not all I should be. I am a shadow of my potential, a hopeless scarecrow of the artist I was meant to be. I am worse than mediocre, since to be mediocre at something you have to at least do it.

The last time I seriously set forth to create art was 2002. SIx years ago, and before that the last time was 1999. It is embarrassing and damning to say this. I have betrayed the trust given to those who can create works of art... turned my back on the duty every artist is given.

I am pathetic, apathetic and an embarrassment. The drawing included in this post was a 5 minute study from my college days. When I look at it now, it depresses me that I had that much potential, and now I can't find the energy to put pencil to paper.

As long as I draw breath, hope remains

And yet, I am given another day to make things right. I am tired of being a failure. I am tired of not living up to my potential. Most of all, I am tired of betraying the trust, faith and time that people like Rudy put into me, believing I would do something real with my art. Something that mattered.

Tonight was one of those nights.

• A night to see yourself for who you have become, and to weep for yourself.
• A night to see who you were, and wish you could go back.
• A night to see who you had hoped to be when you were young, and decide it is time to get on with it and be that person.

Here's to getting on with it, after almost 10 years.