Artists Only

Last night, as I sat at a table in a restaurant in downtown Berkeley (aptly named "downtown"), I considered the nature of art. I didn't have a long time, so I tried to limit the discussion to the reason that I was there in the first place: My Younger Brother.
When we were both younger, I was going to be the artist. I began drawing in the inside covers of coloring books. I didn't care much for the coloring part, but those blank pages were very enticing. I could have any picture I wanted there, not just the stiff black outlines offered up by the rest of the book. And when I was finished with the inside covers, I was pretty much finished with the whole deal. Happily, my father worked in the publishing business, so he regularly brought home reams of paper for me to practice my cartooning. I took it as my mission to fill all the notepads and poster sized pieces of paper that came into the house.
At the time, I never considered the potential for sibling rivalry. I had initially taken up drawing after watching the doodles and cartoons of my older brother, and I didn't imagine that my younger brother might be looking over my shoulder. The day the three of us decorated our fold-down bunks for the loft of our cabin, I painted bright psychedelic slogans of love and peace, and a goofy dragon next to a flower with a peace symbol in the center. Just behind me, my younger brother had chosen red for his background, and in one corner he painted "an army man" and scrawled the word "War".
When I went to college, I was going to be a studio art major. When my younger brother moved on to the university, he was preparing to be a business major. By the end of each of our freshman years, our paths had shifted. I failed a basic drawing class because I stopped going. He stopped going to school entirely, choosing to go on the road with some friends of his who had a band. I still like to draw, but he has made an avocation of "liberating paint" and learning new ways to express his creativity. He is currently exploring neon and sculpture.
Last night I picked the table at the restaurant because it was underneath one of the two pieces that my brother had on exhibit there. There was an opening gala for the show, and I took my place with my wife and son, waiting for my brother the artist to appear. Such is the nature of art.