as an artist, i was 眼高手低 - 'eyes high, hands low'. my ambition outmatched my skill.

realistically, it's because I have always wanted a lot for myself, not that I was complete ass. i was not surrounded by chumps—this was major league shit. they were fluent where i would stammer. i knew what mastery looked like, i knew what beauty looked like.

that was the problem.

when i left, it was not a triumph. i did not have a clear idea of what to do next. i spent a little less than a year hidden, reading and watching art films in the interim applying to college but mainly trying to reorient. when people did catch me, i got the question 'what do you want to do?' too much but also not enough. i know, do what you want to do is the answer but it is such utterly lazy advice. i used to know what i wanted to do. but i also deeply, deeply knew that being very publicly mediocre was not it.

what was 'doing what i wanted' realistically going to look like? can you do something exceptional by doing what everyone else does? when you read this, you're going to say i over-corrected:

i am in the middle of the longest possible degree-granting program in existence. this is no exaggeration. the average time to completion is nearly a decade. there is a bag at the end. it is incredibly stable, through training and after. it is something that people respect. but yes. ten years to get your hands up.

halfway through, i'm feeling it. i'm building things i care about, i'm almost always feeling that energy of intense passion. but i'm also feeling my eyes slip even higher. i'm finding myself coming back to the question of whether i'm demanding enough, if i don't want things fast enough. eyes and hands still aren't level.

so what, another ten years? do i have another ten years? i've got golden handcuffs this time. i don't know if i'll have the courage to walk away next time. how do i...