I had taken the train from Indiana, overwhelmed and excited with the freedom my parents had given me, allowing me to go to the city on my own at such a young age. I was 14, walking in the door of the Harold Washington Library of Chicago with knobby...
Read MoreThe yellow plastic chair I was sitting in at the head of the semicircle felt like it was about to swallow me whole while I sat sweating. My work was being critiqued in class which means that for 15-30 minutes I had to listen to
Read MoreIn an attempt to continue growth as an adult, an artist, and as a human I think it’s important to reflect on events and lessons from the last year to be proud of myself, and...
Read More1. I can’t control myself around sweets. At all. Or potato chips. They’ll be gone in...
Read More
