When I started my art career I was really in my twenties. I was stubborn and silly and knew everything I was ever going to know, so twenty. Very silly. I always had a brush in my hands since age 4 but I never saw it as a living until I was 23.
Living at the beach with nothing to do I started reading all my art books again. It all started to make sense. It had to be books I had sense I was a little guy with chickenpox. Silly things kept in unsearched pockets.
My advice as a silly 40 something now is don’t just collect good books, read them too. That and don’t trust shrink wrapping on an art book.
That and lastly, be nice to yourself.
I love you… me.