When you're 11 years old you wake up early on Christmas day, you just do.

Christmas was always amazing at our house. I remember being so excited on this particular Christmas because, under the tree, just beyond the hockey gear and the socks and the new pajamas, I saw it. I wasn't sure I saw it ... but I saw it. 

In the run-up to Christmas, there could've been no doubt what I wanted to see under that tree.  I wrote to Santa, I begged, pleaded, whimpered, and cajoled. I dropped hints and made suggestions (kids are about as subtle and a jackhammer). 

Then, on Christmas morning, when I unwrapped my present, my heart soared like an F-4 Phantom with blazing afterburners going vertical.  It was loud! It was spectacular! It was a brand spanking new electric guitar - AND IT WAS RED!  I strapped it on, cranked it up and made my parents sorry they ever had a child.

For me, it was the best gift ever! (aside from that whiskey advent calendar I got a couple of years ago - now that was a real gem).

I had no clue what a chord was, I had no idea a note was. But, oh man, it was a rip-roarin' blast whaling on my brand new "ax".  That's until blood started to trickle out of my ears, my fingers resembled freshly ground hamburger and our poor unfortunate neighbors had to summon the noise police.  All's well and good until there's a court order involved.

The parental units finally gave up on the thought that I might spontaneously emerge with some sort of musical genius. Having admitted they were powerless over my horrible guitar pounding, they gave their lives over to a higher power, consulted the yellow pages and decided it was time to trade some hard earned cash for the edification of their number one son.

My guitar teacher was Mrs. Elenor Spicer. God only knows how I remember that - I just do. She was a pleasant enough muse who taught music out of her living room.  Every Wednesday after school I'd hop on my bike and point my body in the direction of Mrs. Spicer's house two and a half miles away. That's way back when we still used Mr. and Mrs. to address big people. 

Do you know it's hard to ride a bicycle and carry a guitar? If you're me it's really difficult.

You either have to hold the handlebars with one hand and carry the guitar in the other or ride with no hands and use both hands to carry the guitar. I can't imagine why neither my parents, my teacher nor I thought about using the guitar strap to hang the thing on my back. It would have been much easier and oh so much safer.  Nobody wore a helmet back then. One wrong move and life could have been much different for me. 

My parents should have known better but I think my mother liked to watch me suffer. 

Perhaps that's why I have this enduring image blistered in my mind.  I can see my mother laughing her @$s off watching her feeble son ride off into the sunset for his lessons.  One hand holding the guitar and the other holding the handlebars, the poor kid (me) wobbled down the road like a drunkard leaving the pub at closing time.

The first song I learned was "Try a Little Kindness" by  Glenn Campbell. Believe me, I was no Glenn Campbell.  

I struggled to get it right.  Mrs. Spicer was very kind and encouraging and everything you'd want in a guitar teacher. The problem was I didn't practice enough.  Actually, I don't think I practiced at all. Why I expected to show up week after week magically improved I don't know. We are blind to our stupidity sometimes. 

After a while I let it go. I didn't pick it up again until years later.  In other words, I gave up.  Sure, I would take it out to tickle the strings sometimes but for the most part, the guitar stayed locked up and out of mind. 

Years later, I picked the guitar up again. I took lessons and practiced and eventually got better.  I'll never be Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton or Jeff Beck but I've found with practice and perseverance I can put some of my shortcomings behind me. 

Many beers later, a friend and I started playing music in his basement for fun.  We kept at it month after month. We started to improve. One thing led to another, a few others joined us and we ended up playing some gigs together. It was so much fun. I loved it. 

It's the same with painting. The more I paint the more confident I get. Eventually, I've started to see myself get better. 

I hope I've learned my lesson. If you stick with something you can get better. It can open up a whole new set of opportunities.  

I'm really glad I picked up painting and drawing again too. I can't wait to see where it leads. I love to do it and getting better gives me some encouragement and confidence. 

You really do get some do-overs in life. It's never too late to get back in the saddle and do what you love.  It makes this aging rocker and painter very happy.  

What makes you happy? 

What have you left it for dead on the side of the road?

Pick it up again. Dust it off - it will change your life.

I'm a guy.  Really, I'm a guy but I've grown to like Valentines Day. 

​I am sure I don't  like the commercialization of it and don't like feeling obliged to do anything. But I've grown to understand or accept Valentine's Day in a different light.

So what is Valentines Day anyway?  

Is Valentine's Day just a "Hallmark Holiday"?  One of those holidays designed to sell cards, candy and jewelry?

Is it a just a day men run around like little flower bearing cupids with their heads cut off seemingly trying to stay out of trouble for yet another year?  

Is it a day for boosting restaurant bookings?

Is it a day for helping kids with "Be My Valentine"  cards?

Is it a day for remembering Chicago Gangsters? 

Is it Christian or is it Pagan? 

None of those things really float the old steam barge I've become.  

When somethings doesn't suit me, I reinvent it to make it's more compatible with my way of seeing things. It's a cool trick cause you can do it right between your ears. 

So what is it?

For me - it's none of those things I bubbled up to the top of this post. 

For me - It's a day I remember friends.  It's a day that I can remember and renew relationships (my other half urges - "not THOSE kind of relationships"). 

For me - its a birthday.  One of my very best friends from childhood was born on February 14th.  When Valentines day comes along I think of him.  Okay - I think of him way more than once a year.  Happy Birthday Rick. 

For me - I like to remember my friends and how lucky I am to actually have them. (friends that is) 

I have come to realize that most people like to know they're loved. Your friends are your fans, your tribe, your people. They are the group you can count on in a jam. 

Not everybody is going to be your friend but everyone is a potential friend. 

Valentine's Day, in the past, has had a bad reputation as a BS holiday but I would like to turn it around and think of it in a bit of a different way.  I would like to think of my friends. 

That's why, today, to my friends and my potential friends, I wish you all a Happy Valentines Day and you should know that I am thinking  about you. 

I like to think different.  

​

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I hope I hear from you.  

I wish you Friendship, Love & Happiness

Did you know that you can train yourself to be at peace?  Honestly, really you can.  I've found that painting gives me peace and I'll tell you why. 

No matter who you are, I'm know you could use a bit more peace in your life. So many traumatic things are going on in the world today.  It's hard to escape the hubbub. 

I do the best I can by watching minimal news and I try to make my little corner of the world as peaceful as possible. 

But avoidance is not a total solution. The horrible truth is you can't avoid the hair pulling, mind numbing rancor altogether. 

Challenges come along in life. The world just likes to poke you all the time.

That's a stone cold fact.  

​In this context I'm thinking of peace as equanimity (mental calmness, composure, and even temper) and not the opposite of war.  

​Equanimity is one of the The Four Sublime States  in Buddhism. 

The Four Sublime States are: 

• ​Loving Kindness
• Compassion
• Sympathetic Joy
• ​Equanimity 

​I just think that equanimity is a great concept and a cool word. Once you learn it you'll have trouble getting it out of your mind. 
​
​My brain is so often like a Super Ball bouncing off the walls.  Do you remember Super Balls?  They were really really bouncy. 

When I let my mind run amok the result is not good. 

It's like playing golf or it's like playing the guitar or it's like painting. You have to train yourself to get better.  The more you train the better you get. 

By the way - Those are three of the things that work really well for me.  Those three things bring me peace and make me centered. 

Why you ask? 

Believe it or not those things have some of the similar attributes.  

You have to engage extreme mental concentration and physical coordination at the same time.  To get in what is called a flow state you have to  quiet your mind and engage your body. 

If you want to read more on "Flow " state try looking up  Mihaly Csíkszentmihályi (pronounced:   me - high - cheek - sent - me - hi).  He's the guy that coined the term Flow with respect to peak performance. 

At first it's pretty hard work but it gets easier over time.  You learn how to quiet the mind. You learn how to coordinate the body.  You learn how to get into the extreme present to maximize your performance. 

I do, in fact, know that those things work for me.  They keep me centered when all around me is falling apart.  

• When my mother died - I went to play golf
• When I lost my job - I went to play golf
• When 9/11 happened - I went to play golf

Art works the very same way for me. 

When I'm painting I am totally involved in the process. It allows me to be centered and helps me train my mind to be peaceful.  It's almost automatic when I pick up a brush. 

I want to make world a better more peaceful place to live but I don't have control over the the whole world so I'll do my best to make my little piece of the world as peaceful as possible. 

Life is so much more agreeable when you have peace in your life. 

What works for you?

Where do you find peace? 

Comment below and let me know where your peace comes from.  I'd love to know. 

If you're not following me yet - sign up using the form on the top right on this page.  You won't miss a thing cause you'll get an update once a week - right in your very own mailbox.  

I hope I hear from you.  

I wish you Peace. 

 I've got a little secret...

After clearing the cobwebs from my eyes this morning, I started thinking about what I might write this week 

I thought of a secret I've had tucked away. 

This vexing secret has had safe harbor in my mind for years.  It's keenly tucked away in the nether-reaches of my gray matter. 

When it does come up in a conversation, I toss it off as if it were a joke or some pesky piece of fluff that's easily brushed off my collar. 

But...

It's always been a dream of mine.

I can't really deny it.

It's embarrassing. 

It's a bit humbling. 

I'm really self conscious about it. 

Okay - it's not such a big a secret - I think I'll tell anyone who will listen.  I getting older now so I've probably told the same people more than once.  

This is my  secret:

I want to use art work to put food on my table. 

Somehow, I let that little artist dream live in my head for years without escaping. I'm a very good jailor or maybe it's those pit bulls the live in my brain.  Nevertheless, I'd draw here and paint there but wouldn't step out of my comfort zone. 

I wouldn't show my work.  Because, well, I was scared.  I didn't want people to tell me I was horrible.  What if it didn't work.

Though I do spend a lot of time drawing and painting, I can say, with fairly good authority,  if I tried to survive solely on the sales of my artwork today, I might have some problems maintaining a viable heartbeat.  My brain would have to develop send excuses to my stomach explaining the lack of sustenance. Given my art sales record, it would be really hard to put food on the table at this point.  

A guy called Bill Earle once said, 

      "If your outgo exceeds your income, then your upkeep will be you downfall." 

Of course, Charles Dickens nailed it too when he said:

      "Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen [pounds]
        nineteen [shillings] and six [pence], result happiness. Annual income
        twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six,
        result misery."  - Wilkins Micawber - David Copperfield

I do sell the occasional painting or drawing and I am really grateful for that. You know who you are... ;-) 

I just want to get that darn dream out of my head and give it  a solid place in the physical world. 

So, I'll be studying up and working on learning the business of art. It's not enough to just be good at making pretty things. You have to know who your customers are, make sales and market your stuff. I'm going to work on those. 

If you have any suggestions let me know.

I'll let you know what I learn too. Cause - I know you're interested. ;-)

Is there a a secret you want to sneak out past behind those bull dogs in your mind? 

Do you want o write a book, create a business, run a marathon or paint a masterpiece?

I'd love to know what your dream is.

In the mean time I'll continue to create new stuff (cause that's what I do) - this one started in my sketch book.  Then I translated it to a digital drawing and colored it in. 

Here's the process: 

Wish me luck!

You can climb on board the express by subscribing to weekly updates on my website.  www.scottattenborough.com.  Come follow my progress.  

and ...

If you like the stuff I do you can recommend it to others. 

If you like what I make let me know.