I woke up this morning, on the floor of my father’s house, and realized…

This is my life.

Feeling the fatigue anchoring me to the ocean of freshly shed sleep, I looked up at the painting I was working on late last night and shook my head with a smile. “I must be crazy.” I thought, “to have such delusions of grandeur from this vantage point,” peeling my face from the carpet.

Yet, I have chosen to be here, at rock-bottom center, learning to navigate from the eye of the storm, where the debris that is my Life can’t touch me. I’m invincible here, because the world only sees me through the windows I provide, in words, or on canvas. But WHEN I have made it, WHEN I have dissolved in illumination like the cosmos on the horizon, I will finally exhale and blow this revolving wall down so that we can watch the sun rise together; You, whose curious eyes have made me real.

I’ve contemplated a Blog for some time now, but didn’t know where to begin or how to welcome you into such a seemingly static existence as my life, the life of an artist. But there is no reason to look back now, to the beginning. Therefore, I can only start from here, approaching the entrance door to victory, face to face with Life and the reality that I am only somewhat removed from the ebb and flow of the market to which I belong; something I am in the process of remedying. And I will. I will emerge from the depths of obscurity, with anchors and storms and all my debris attached, and I will resume this journey unencumbered. I have grown accustomed to making this decision every time I open my eyes, reborn from the uncertainty of sleep. And it is this very choice I make each and every day that will mean the difference between drowning and swimming safely to shore.

I have seen tomorrow. And I finally understand how to get there, one breath at a time.

So come along for the ride.

It is a glorious view from the water.

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