*takes a slow, deep breath*
Alright. So. Have you ever stood at your apartment window, looking down at the street below and suddenly been overwhelmed with this gnawing panic that you aren't where you want to be? I was raised being told that the type of art I produce would never be marketable. And like the normal soupy-minded teenager, I absorbed this fact. Money wasn't the point. I did what I wanted. That and all the other chip-on-the-shoulder, set-fire-to-the-world pontifical mishmash that seems to fill us up in highschool.
And then life went on. I grew a little. Learned a little more. Moved out, saw a little of the world, danced under the