There
were no doctors among the Cro-magnon,
no
attorneys in the early stages of Homo-sapiens.
Before
the academic awarding of Associates,
Baccalaureate
, Master’s and PhD Degrees.
Prior
to CEOs, CFOs, Colonels, Generals and
NCOs.
Long,
long ago before the Dark and Middle Ages,
the
Renaissance and Industrial Age, before Kings
and
Queens, before Presidents and Prime Ministers,
before
the certified title of any profession there
were
artists and artisans rendering their impressions
and
interpretations of life’s who, what, when, where,
why
and how on the surfaces of hides, clay pottery
and
cavernous stone.
From
the early beginnings of mankind and his
tribal
and societal communities to this day,
artists,
musicians, story tellers and scribers
recorded
the historical references of their times
and
very being.
Now,
folks, when I was a child before my
schooling
in 1,2,3s and A,B,Cs prior to
reading
and writing or formal education,
I
took up the pencil, the pen, crayon and brush,
and
in the primeval tradition of my early
ancestors,
I began my lifelong profession as
an
artist.
While
modestly encouraged by family and
teachers
to continue with my inherent
leanings
as a talented hobbyist, I was led
to
educationally pursue more substantive
and
financially lucrative professions in
order
to make a decent living. And half
halfheartedly,
I’ll admit, over the years
I
did some of that, none of which led me
to
personal and professional satisfaction
and
success.
Ah,
but the arts became the benchmark of
my
existence, and now in the advent of
my
seventy-fifth year, my existence has
been
justified by the talent I was given
at
birth. This I knew from an early
age,
I was always meant to follow the
inherent
primordial stew brewing within
me.
No ranking, no official title, no
academic
degree necessary.
Art
has been my life; my life is my art.
Intrinsically,
this is the way it was meant
to
be.
-30-
Chris
Hanch 3-21-2022
