Several weeks back, I had an encounter with a well-known actor (in order to protect his privacy, I won't name names). Mr. X, as I'll call him, is pretty much the definition of an artist: he performs on stage, television, and the silver screen; he paints and sculpts; and--this is where our lives intersected--he writes, as well. His focus is on stage plays, but he also produces the occasional story and essay.
This might seem overly effusive, but I am in awe of this man.
When I decided to delve deeper into Mr. X's history--knowing only of his cinema and television career at the outset--I realized how lucky I am to have crossed paths with him. His work ethic and commitment to the arts are admirable, to say the least. He's been at it for decades longer than I've been alive. He's well-rounded as an artist, since he is learned in painting/sculpture, the written word, and performance. To put it simply, he's the kind of role model I sometimes need.
Because I spend some days wondering how I'll accomplish anything--finishing a story or poem, reading a book, or even watching the latest episode of Community (SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE!). Mr. X, on the other hand, devotes hours to each of his pursuits and makes something of his time. Cate = slacker. Mr. X = the ideal.
Perhaps I'm giving him too much credit. After all, he's had more than thrice as many years to pursue these projects. But I still like what I saw in him, and his achievements make me want to be better. So thanks, Mr. X, for your unwitting example.