My piano teacher always used to call me, “Renaissance woman.” Even though I knew it was admirable to have many talents, I took it to mean I was master of none.
As I’ve gotten older, gotten into college and tried to specialize my interests into one major, maybe two, I discovered that those one or two majors are not even close to describing everything I want to do with my life.
Yes, I do want to work in France some day, as a Diplomat, and work to solve the world’s problems. I want to study peacekeeping and world cultures.
But, I also want to study and teach literature, world literature, read everything I can my hands on. I want to pour my soul into pages and have them pour their souls back into me, mixing our combined knowledges into something new. I could talk and talk about Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Nabokov, for days on end, if I had the chance, and still crave more. My life blood is literature, but it is not all I need to survive.
I need to be able to write and create. I need the space to be innovative and come out of a fit of creation with a novel in my arms. I want to be able to give the characters that roam my mind a space to explore so that I can see what they do with their freedom. I want to create new superheroes for my generation and the next to love. I want to vlog and create television series and revamp classic works.
My personality requires acres of land to spread across. My shaking hands are only level when they have a task. I need to be able to wake up and follow my imagination wherever it may lead me. It might inspire me to read, to write, to build with Legos, to make a model of a house, to sing, to act, to learn another language.
When my piano teacher told me that I would be a Renaissance Woman, she meant that I would be an artist in my own right.