If it's validation you're looking for, I'm afraid it's about to disappoint. But I'm feeling like I'm 13 again and I'm making doodles like my art could change the world. The doodle that changed the world, that'd be the title of my autobiography. At least at 13 it was. And I know I'm older now, slightly less of an idealist, slightly less of an optimist. And yet, we keep moving on anyway.
Whatever happens on Wednesday, or even on 7th November, I'm going to remember this same eagerness to want to be that inspired 13-year old again, or that 11-year old who was asked if she were an artist and who modestly declined, shaking her head, knowing, however, that she actually was. As much as an 11-year old could know or could understand from the word 'artist' anyway.
I guess, in a roundabout way that has become typical of my writing, what I really want to say is that I'm finally finding inspiration again and it feels great.
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