A friend showed up at a party with a t-shirt that read, “You are unique!” Bravo, right? Then, one line below, it read, “Just like everyone else.” Suddenly, I went from feeling kind of special to feeling very ordinary. For the rest of the party, I couldn’t get the t-shirt off my mind. I am unique! Yes!…right?

I have always desired to be one of a kind. Being the only deaf kind in kindergarten, it only took a few days to realize that I had to find a way to set myself apart from the crowd and not let the stigma of “dumb deaf kid” stick on me. (Funny, decades later, ignorance and presumption rule when it comes to the public perception of disabilities). In kindergarten, I discovered none too soon that I was better than most at drawing things. It still remember the high I felt when a cute red-haired girl asked me to draw a flower for her because, “Tim, you’re the best drawer.” Oh yeah. A good feelin’ that was. 

As adults, we enjoy finding our special niche. There are plenty— gardening, cooking, baking, gifting, organizing events, decorating, a knack for interior design, leading a party or a crowd, DIYers, creating the best kids’ birthday parties, crafting the sweetest notes, caregiving, making guests feel right at home, planning road trips…the list goes on. So many talents that have enriched my life. 

And I have my little things that I am proud of, things that flow easy for me. Painting is a joy. Even when one of my landscape painting sessions goes awry and I can’t seem to pull all the elements and colors together in harmony, I have a wonderfully exhilarating time at it. 

I also enjoy carpentry around the house. I have built two homes, a studio, and restored a hundred-and-seventy-year-old house. I love seeing a need, a problem, and solving it with wood and ingenuity. 

As for all those gifts listed above? I am the last person you want in the kitchen. I suck at hosting parties. I will never be a front-and-center guy rounding up the troops. And anything that involves endless details will leave me undone, like a corkscrew ready to pop its spring. I would rather dig holes for ten new trees than do a detail-heavy task. I used to dish off computer entry tasks to my kids. No price was too high. A Super Sundae at Dairy Queen? It’s a deal. 

I have seen the particulars of uniqueness in my art. Every color I have ever mixed on my palette is one of a kind. I can try and replicate the mix but I will never replicate it. I can get close, but not identical. I love this tangible quality, this uniqueness, of art. Every stroke of brush or pencil is a choreography of hand and arm and mind and passion.  

Unique is a beautiful thing. For me. For you. And the person in the chair over there. And their mother. 

Have you seen Monet’s series of haystack paintings? Same subject— a haystack, or two. But each painting shows the uniqueness of the color of the season, the day, the hour. A haystack under bright sun is altogether different than one under a hazy or overcast sky. A June morning is distinct from an April or August morning. A scene at 9:20 AM is unique to one at 11:40 AM. 

That’s the beauty of light and life. And us, too. We humans are an eclectic bunch, each of us a thread making up a Grande Tapestry. You are unique…just like the rest of us. What a wonderful idea, what a wonderful moment.