I still want to do a romantic comedy or a western or a gritty

The words of Laura Vandervoort—“I still want to do a romantic comedy or a western or a gritty independent film… there’s so much that I still want to do”—are not merely the dreams of an artist but the eternal cry of the human spirit. They echo the unquenchable flame of desire within us all: the longing for new horizons, for untested paths, for the adventure of becoming more than we already are. For to say “I still want” is to confess that life, no matter how full, always beckons us onward with promises yet unfulfilled.

The origin of this yearning lies deep in the heart of creation itself. The soul of humanity is never content with a single story, a single form, or a single triumph. Just as the river does not stop when it reaches one bend, but pushes forward toward the sea, so too does the human heart press forward toward new visions and possibilities. Vandervoort’s desire to explore romantic comedies, westerns, and independent films is not only about art—it is about the deeper truth that life itself is meant to be lived in many genres, in many colors, in many forms.

History has shown us countless examples of this restless pursuit. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who was not satisfied to be only a painter, though his canvases reached divine heights. He turned his mind also to engineering, to anatomy, to invention, to philosophy. To the world, his endless pursuits might have seemed scattered, but to the spirit, they were evidence of a soul refusing to be confined. Like Vandervoort, he might have said, “There is still so much I want to do,” for the horizon of curiosity is infinite.

This hunger is not vanity but courage. For to desire new roles, new experiences, new challenges, is to refuse the stagnation that so easily captures the weary soul. Many grow timid with age or content with what they have achieved, but the true seeker remains open, daring, and alive. The romantic comedy represents lightness and joy, the western embodies grit and endurance, the independent film reflects raw truth and rebellion. Each path holds a new face of the human experience—and the brave soul longs to taste them all.

The lesson, then, is that we too must not silence our own longings. When your heart whispers that there is still more to explore, do not dismiss it as folly. The desire for more is not a curse, but a call—a reminder that life is abundant, and that you are meant to live it in fullness. Just as Vandervoort dreams of roles not yet played, so too must you dream of chapters not yet written in your own life.

Practically, this means daring to act upon your unfulfilled desires. If there is a skill you wish to learn, a journey you long to take, a passion you hope to explore, do not wait for permission or for perfect timing. Begin where you are, with what you have. Let each step be an act of courage, a declaration that your life will not be confined to repetition, but will expand into new territories.

Thus, Vandervoort’s words become not only a reflection of an artist’s journey but a teaching for all who listen. Do not measure your life only by what you have already done, but by the vastness of what you still long to do. In longing lies vitality, and in pursuit lies transformation.

And so, let this truth be passed to future generations: never stop desiring, never stop exploring, never stop hungering for new stories. For the soul that continues to say, “There is still so much I want to do,” is the soul that remains forever young, forever alive, forever becoming.