Guess what?! I'm opening an art gallery in Honduras!

I recently realized I count among my friends an inordinate number of people doing extraordinary things.  All around me they are turning their backs on the corporate jobs that largely defined their 20’s and early 30’s for more creative and independent pursuits.  They’re creating personal transformations, taking risks (sometimes huge), quietly building new skills, and finally pulling back the curtains to reveal great big, shiny new and hugely enviable accomplishments.

Within my closest circle of friends I count a banker turned gastronomist; a network administrator turned restaurateur; a novice restorer of Victorian homes; a comms expert who opened a fabulous shop of fabulous things; a PR specialist who opened, in quick succession, his own firm and hotter-than-hot Zuerich nightclub; a nuclear power technician turned boat owner/captain; at least three women who have opened their own consulting practices (independently of each other); and a fabulous couple in Auckland who have opened their own purpose-built day care centre.  A few degrees of separation more and you can throw in a fashion designer, writer of published fiction, composer and all who fairly recently dissed the corporate paycheck and the grind that brings it in.

It seems I have, unwittingly over the years, been collecting for friends a matching set of super-creative, brave, determined visionaries. And I feel their steroidal accomplishments and self-confident, grown-up behaviors are making me look bad – particularly the low-key, no-fuss way in which they are being delivered.   In comparison I ditched my respectable corporate career with quite a bit of fanfare only to spend the last 3 years paddling around (let’s be honest, a little bit aimlessly) in the Caribbean.   Have my half-arsed attempts to postcard a sense of industry and purpose been convincing? I don’t know, but there’s a reason I haven’t updated my LinkedIn profile to include “Scuba Instructor” or “Bartender”.

A recent overland trip from Mexico to Honduras (where I have lived for the last 2 years) provided plenty of time for thinking and despite my internal disquiet (“what am I going to do for the rest of my life?”) was enjoyable and satisfying in every way.  I was doing two things I love best - traveling unfamiliar terrain and experiencing its culture through the craft markets and artist workshops.  I was, as always, assessing everything I saw as potential fit for my imaginary gallery and justifying every purchase as a “sample” in case I might actually get the nerve to open a real one.    I’ve been carrying this dream around in my head for years and have hundreds of mental business plans.  I even developed a brand and logo several years back.  I’ve been talking about it for so long I don’t think anyone, including myself, was taking it very seriously anymore.  The “samples” get given as gifts or put in storage and my friends make jokes about how my business model is not really working as long as I am only buying art, not selling it.  

At some point during the 10 hour bus ride from Antigua to San Pedro Sula I arrived at the (ridiculously simple) realization that if I don’t actually try this I’m going to be shopping for samples and creating mental business plans for the rest of my life.   Wishfully imagining (but never experiencing) the satisfaction of sharing my discoveries with other people in an art gallery of my own creation. 

And so, I am opening an art gallery in Honduras.  On the Caribbean island of Roatan to be precise.  I’m not saying that Dad can stop losing sleep over the state of my finances but I’m going to give it my best shot and I don’t think I will have any regrets.  I hope it will be challenging and fun and that I get to go to work with passion for what I am doing.  Maybe I’ll even update my LinkedIn profile – “Layle Stanton, Gallery Owner (2013 – 20??).

Thanks to all my extraordinary friends for being such an inspiration.

Latin American Lifestyle and Art (LALA) is about to become a reality.  Wish me luck – here I go!