How it all started

Recently I fulfilled a fantasy that many of us have.
I just got up from my desk and walked out the door,
never to sit in a cubical again. Friends and family all had visions of
how I told off my boss. Take this job and whatever.

For 13 years I sat in my corporate cubical and pushed on. Occasionally
I would hang a painting in my cube. The calendar on my desk was covered
with doodles of invisible people rushing about in suits and ties
carrying briefcases. Going no place.

People would see my artwork and say " why do you work here?" and I
would reply " dropped out of art school, got married, had kids, got
divorced, and here I am". My life was hanging with artists and
musicians at night and sitting in the cube all day. I had duel
identities. Eventually I could not serve two masters. So I cracked.

I just got up and walked out. Didn't bother to say goodbye to my
coworkers. What could I say? It was simply over, time to go. I was
brought to my knees and had to leave. My artistic identity had become
my only identity. I am an artist. There is no denying it.
Time to get busy.