Brian C. Mayer
If you were to visit my parent's house in the mid-1970's and meander over to the refrigerator, it's a good bet that you would have noticed a small drawing of a futuristic city on full display, hanging by a magnet.
The artist was a curly-haired boy who wanted to offer his dad something for Father’s Day. Despite my dubious assumption that my father was into cities as much as I was, he appreciated my gift. In fact, he seemed to think that I had real talent, stating several times that he "could never draw like that in a million years…"
While I was proud of my work and pleased by his faith in my abilities, I knew better. The drawing of the city reflected persistence and patience. I believed I was clever enough to visualize images in my mind and reproduce them naturally - a gift that I felt compelled to develop.
Looking back, this way of thinking persisted into my adolescence and far into my adulthood as I expanded my artistic skills.