If Fame were a Stone
In my case, the stone is fame--more accurately described, perhaps, as the public acknowledgement of my position among(st?) the top-tier portrait painters of my time. Having pushed the stone almost to the top of the hill (see NYTimes, Post, WSJ), I now see that it has rolled back down (see The Naked and the Dead, Mailer --specifically the howitzer on the muddy hill scene).
The good news? The stone has not, in fact, rolled all the way back down the hill. It is now lodged a few feet above sea level. Progress has been made.
How would I know this? By Googling my name, of course, and seeing that I (meaning me, not just your everyday, rank-and-file Geoffrey Raymond) now come in at #3 in the Geoffrey Raymond references. The other guy is a professor in Australia and up until now he has pretty much dominated this particular patch of Google terrritory.
The reference would be this:
New York, NY (December 4, 2006)—New York portrait painter Geoffrey Raymond is exhibiting al fresco his recent portrait of Richard Grasso in front of the New ...
So that's the good news.
For my next act: "Big Dave I (Say It Loud: I'm Black and I'm Proud)." Actually not my next act (which, I swear, is "Big Jim I: Get Up (I Feel Like being a) Sex Machine"), but coming soon to a theatre near you.
Get on up!