I've been staring at a grainy, black and white, ultrasound image of my son (who currently resides inside my wife's body) and wondering what kind of person he will be considering the type of environment I hope to provide for him.
I wasn't much into sports when I was a child. Being fat didn't help. But I'm a much bigger fan now than I was in my younger days. And I was a terrible student; however, my love for poetry and the written word in general defines most of my personality. I'm thinking these two areas of my life might have blossomed earlier in my life if only (if only) I had been exposed to them properly. I'm not blaming my parents - I had an excellent childhood. But it makes me wonder what might have happened if a violin had been placed in my hands when I was five years old. Or if the rules of baseball had been explained to me before I was unceremoniously relegated to right field.
Most importantly I want my son to know art and things artful. I truly believe art is an extension of a piece of our souls we have yet to fathom. And that art is everywhere. The day my son realizes that will be a proud day.
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