So you're not really sure if you can call yourself an "artist" yet, but you have a healthy amount of artwork completed. You have been leisurely creating art for a couple years now and are beginning to grasp a firm grip on your craft.

Today I was mulling around the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. Amongst the empty frames from the most prolific art theft of recent history, was some pretty incredible and meaningful art. During my visit I caught myself thinking about the amount of money the theft is advertised as (north of $500 million).

OK, time to piss off some mathematicians and those always pushing for math and science.

I find it incredibly interesting that the arts are the first thing on the chopping block at schools with lagging budgets. I am aware of the importance of math.. to figure out change of a dollar and figure out how many big macs you can eat. However, advanced math is utterly useless when it comes to real life application. Unless of course you are an engineer, but as a trained architect I choose to ignore engineers.

It occurs to me every now and again about some of the unbreakable rules and regs that have been established. Seemingly unflinching, these control the vast majority of what artists produce. Sensible in nature, they are the wall between the ordinary and the unknown.

Dreamers..... its something we deep down inside, actually are. But our dreams are even more closer to reality than we even know. It is our distant thoughts of doubt which seem to always flood our souls and continuously fight with our hearts and minds almost every time. We are all special and we all hold hidden talents and artistic values that we may not recognize or feel we are worthy of displaying.

As I float my way through the vast ocean of art being made in this contemporary landscape, I am often thinking ahead. Not to what work will be created, but rather how this period in time will be remembered. There is no escaping the fact that art is all about looking backwards, to what has been created before. So what will this time, my time, be remembered for?