the beginning...or the end?

I remember a time, I must have been in the 9th grade, I was just starting to think about what I wanted to be in life, did I want to be a engineer (Hell NO!) or a doctor (yeah right! sometimes a forget my own name imagine forgetting a patient!) ....always the pessimest, i knew what I DIDNT want never quite knew what I wanted.

My father proposed an exciting idea, do you want to be an architect? But what does an architect do dad? An architect brings ideas to life, an architect is an artist talks about the metaphysical, about space and yet, builds with bricks and mortar. An architect belongs to the fields of engineering (aleast most academia treats it as such) but soars in the realm of the artist, never really belonging anywhere. Sounds like me dad, but how do I know for sure?

He suggested I start with something simple. He told me to imagine my house, imagine what it would be like, draw up a plan for it and make a model of it. In ways i still dont understand in about 2 days I made a model of what would be called a studio apartment ( I didnt know such things existed then.) I designed a self contained unit with a corner with skylights for me to work in, a raised platform to sleep on and a kitchenette with a bar/breakfast counter. Its frighteneing in how much detail i remember this.

Next Monday I start work in an architectural firm, designing houses for people, making the same kind of models I made so many years ago. Today I look for my studio apartment in San Francisco city.

Is this the end of a dream? Or the beginning of reality? Did my destiny work its way around, did the world conspire to give me what I wanted all those years ago? Or did I make that happen?

Maybe all of the above. Whatever force got me here, internal or external I thank you now, and I pray that that dream metamorphoses into a wonderful exciting real life.