When I grow up...
I am 40 years, 8 months, and 20 days old as of this post. To everyone else, I am a grownup. Adult. Woman. But somewhere inside of me I hold the belief that everyone knows better than I. Everyone knows more. Everyone knows How to Be. This makes me feel very small, figuratively speaking. When I was five, I wanted to be a veterinarian. I loved animals, especially dogs and horses. Somewhere in my growing up I stopped wanting to be a vet, but nothing else really replaced that aspiration. Except art. I loved art, all kinds, and would spend forever drawing my own comic books (where those are now I have no clue). I remember my Crayola lazy-Susan style utopia of art supplies. I sat at the yellow counter in my basement playroom and Made Stuff. In high school, I took every art class St. Joseph's Academy had to offer. I wouldn't say I was great, but I loved it. College came around and I went to Portfolio Days l...