The Importance of a Vision

Having a vision for the future matters more than most people want to admit. Not because you’re guaranteed to reach it—but because without one, you drift. When there’s nothing you’re working toward, days blur together, effort feels pointless, and meaning slowly erodes. Stagnation doesn’t arrive loudly. It settles in quietly like rust on a blade.

I don’t pretend my life is easy. It isn’t. But I still consider myself blessed—because I have a direction. I’m working toward becoming a tattoo artist and leaning fully into my creative side. That pursuit gives me purpose when things get heavy. It gives me something to wake up for when motivation is thin. And it gives me an identity beyond a uniform and a rank left behind.

Art, for me, isn’t a hobby. It’s a way forward. It’s a way to help others tell their stories, process their experiences, and carry meaning on canvas or on their skin. If I’m fortunate, it’s also something I can pass down—to my kids, my grandkids—not just as a skill, but as proof that reinvention is possible at any stage of life.

The sketch you see here is who I imagined I might become after retirement. He may not be exactly who I end up as. That’s fine. A vision isn’t a contract—it’s a compass. It gives you something to aim at when the path gets unclear.

That’s what Honor and Ink is built on. That vision that helps sharpen the blade.

Honor and Ink exists for people in transition. For those who’ve carried responsibility, sacrifice, loss, or service—and are trying to figure out and capture who they are on the other side of it. It’s about honoring where you’ve been while having the courage to ink where you’re going.

You don’t need certainty. You don’t need guarantees. You need a reason to keep moving. To avoid the rust.

This is mine.  If you need help with yours, I am here for you ready to help sharpen the blade.