I am an artist, being born anew, discovering what I want to say. For 28 years what I thought was my world, wasn’t. That’s OK, I’m dealing, but it forced me now, to look at the half-truths I sold myself. My career as a cultural strategist helps me help other artists, but my own expression is tightly controlled. “You need to tell your story” they would urge, but I couldn’t because I lived a dichotomy that valued my intellect and trivialized my own expression. Well, now its burbling forth regardless, dancing in my room, drawing on dog-ends, subverting postcards for lols, it will wait no longer.