Image source Audible
Narrated by Alfred Molina on Audible
Reading Reflection written August 2020
If I could share an intimate dinner with anyone, dead or alive I would choose to dine with a ripe old aged Leo. Well, Leonardo Da Vinci but by the end of our warm candle lit encounter, through our garnet stained lips, I imagine I’d affectionately call him Leo and he’d call me Sam.
I don’t care that this dream is most likely considered an unoriginal choice by contemporary artsy crowds as Leo's image and burnt umber sketches have been distributed to death. Leo’s artworks now seem to evoke a stale apathy towards European art history. In many ways I can relate to Leo, the endless stashes of unfinished artworks which will probably never see the light of day until I’ve decomposed. Leo was a late bloomer, I too started professionally painting around 30. Leo wasn't driven by money or patrons, I too avoid painting things when my heart’s not in painting’s purpose (even when I suspect people will open their wallets for a certain subject matter). I find comfort in Leo’s successes despite him not having a conventional-family and not knowing his paternal father like myself. I also relate to him growing up without money and surrounding himself with successful people. Leo treated curiosity as a verb, he’s a true intellectual-Artist; he's an enigmatic symbol of triumph through perseverance. Leo is a symbol of hope for all weirdos who feel the world’s oyster is only for those born into society's cool-club.
Read this book when you need reminding that when you are extraordinary, you will lead an extraordinary life.