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It's funny that, I have had a little teaching experience but I came to the conclusion that it wasn't for me. I gave classes for about a year to kids aged around 10 and to adults. It was very gratifying, and surprising, but I didn't enjoy the actual teaching part or preparing for the classes. It was a revelation to me because I realized I actually did have something to teach others, whereas before I thought I didn't.
There's lots of things I'd love to be doing, that I feel I'm qualified for, but am not doing. I have a fertile imagination! But narrowing it down to just a few:
I'd love to become a professional artist. Right now it's just "on the side". I often wonder if it's ever going to happen. But I'm not giving up without a fight. I spend most of my free time on this.
I'd love to be a professional singer/songwriter/musician. I have studied music since my teens and have been singing in bands and taking music lessons on and off from a young age. But it's hard to be heard, and to find the right people. Right now I haven't got enough time for it.
I'd love to be a professional actress, in theatre (musical or otherwise). I have done a few amateur productions and one professional, and also got a part in "My Fair Lady" in Portugal, but I had to quit because I wanted to finish my degree and it was one or the other. I don't regret my decision but I wish things had happened at a different time.
I also would like to be a graphic designer, and I could be, all I need is to go back to university and do a few complementary subjects to my fine art degree and I'd have the official qualification. But I don't feel as strongly about that as becoming an artist. I already do some designs for the gallery I work in now.
I guess anything to do with the arts is my thing!
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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.
Fernando Pessoa, 1918
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