I'm kind of in awe of the article I just read in the Guardian about Impostor Syndrome, which has apparently been studied for years. I had never heard of it, but immediately identified with its subject, feeling like a fraud.
When I was moving through the ranks of business, when I was employed in that realm, no matter how many promotions I got, I felt I would never be good enough, that there was always someone better. Same with writing. I always feel like what I write is crap, and there will be someone waiting in the sidelines to write a scathing critique, and consider someone else superior. It's inescapable for me.
So, having read this article, I am finally validated in my feeling like this. I've never heard it talked about before, and now I have a starting point for researching this phenomenon of Impostor Syndrome and how it has affected my life.
Two US sociologists, Jessica Collett and Jade Avelis, wanted to know why so many female academics opt for "downshifting": setting out towards a high-status tenured post, then switching to something less ambitious. Contrary to received wisdom, their survey of 460 doctoral students revealed that it wasn't to do with wanting a "family-friendly" lifestyle. Instead, impostorism was to blame. They also uncovered a nasty irony. It's long been known that impostorism afflicts more women than men – one of many reasons that institutions match younger women academics with high-ranking female mentors. But some survey responses suggested those mentors might make things worse, because students felt like impostors compared with them. "One said she suspected her mentor was secretly Superwoman," Science Careers magazine reported. "How could she ever live up to that example?"
I feel awesome. It feels so good to be unbound and freed of cigarettes. It's like a prison whose bars are made of smoke. I loved smoking, but I hated it all the same. It stinks, it yellows teeth and fingernails, it costs a fortune, it stinks up rooms and cars and hair and clothes, it takes up time and mental energy, it causes depression, it turns you mad when you first try to quit, it takes away the ability to breathe freely, it clogs the lungs with tar, ashes make their way into every crack and crevice of life, and did I mention they cost a fortune?
Cigarettes are terrible cancer-causing little assholes, and today I've been rid of them for 90 days. THREE MONTHS! I am so proud of myself, and so grateful. If I hadn't had such wonderful support, quitting may not have been possible. I am so happy to be a non-smoker.
I'd like to thank you, whoever you are, for being there as a reader. The ability to write to you here has been incredibly cathartic, and has been a great help in quitting.
I'm a non-smoker! (Smober as they say in nicotine recovery.) WOOOHOOOOOOO!
The following are the nominees for the 2014 Academy Awards (the ones I care about) announced by Cheryl Boone Isaacs, president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, on Thursday. For some strange reason, she was joined by "Hunger Games" actor Chris Hemsworth. Weird. I wonder who he had to screw to get that spot... Anyway, The Academy Awards will air live on ABC on March 2, starting at 7 p.m. ET. Share your picks in the comments.
CNN Coverage | Official Oscar Site
Mark Twain said it beautifully, "All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then success is sure. ” Oh, so true!
I went to WalMart tonight to pick up some tea and ice cream (wonderful combo, I know), and was astonished at the level of happiness I saw in individuals who are very clearly and hopelessly ignorant. Now, I don't mean rude or stupid, although some of them could be, but I mean that they have no connection to the realities of humanity and the way it works.
They seem to go along, very happily, as large, lazy, junk eaters who only gain amusement out of being confronted by the ways of the world and other people. I marveled at the lack of concern about what others must think of them, and stood in wonderment at the self checkout as a woman devoured a melted carton of Ben and Jerry's ice cream as she paid for her diabetic-coma-waiting-to-happen grocery bill with a food stamp card. She looked stress-free without a care in the world.
Meanwhile, I can't leave the house if I haven't showered and made myself presentable, even if it's just a trip to WalMart. I need to see a therapist twice a week to work on issues that stem as far back as my single digit childhood years. I am always stressed, and even have panic attacks. This leaves me thinking I've been living this life devastatingly wrong, and I am surely missing out on some secret. The secret of not giving a shit. If someone could clue me in to this awesome way of living, please do so in the comments. Thank you in advance!
This is a difficult subject for me because the pursuit of knowledge and eventual (possible) wisdom, at least in the scientific world, contradicts faith in mystical, spiritual things. I am constantly undercutting my faith and spirituality by saying I believe in all the laws of science and reason. There's nothing scientific or reasonable about pearly gates, an omnipotent being who lives in the sky, angels playing harps, or a fiery pit called hell that's home to a red man called the devil.
So, when my mom passed away in January of 2008, where did she go? Did her energy burn out like a pilot light that loses its source of fuel? Or did her spirit float up to Heaven, stop to check in with Saint Peter at the gates, and proceed to meet God while angels heralded her arrival? The bottom line is I don't want to think the person I love most in the world met a terrifying demise consisting of blackness, emptiness, and loneliness. The latter option called Heaven is much more comforting. When I suffered such great loss, I wanted to be comforted like a child, and told stories of happiness and positivity. While I do think the version of Heaven I just talked about is a fairy tale designed to be told for consolation, I've settled on a nice balance between the two theories of eternal light and eternal darkness: an enlightened spiritual afterlife.
If you think about it, there's got to be a reason for this very visceral, sinewy life. Everyone, no matter how intelligent and privileged, experiences some form of great pain and suffering at least once. Some experience more than most. I believe the reason for this is to prepare us for something better later, and if we're let in on the secret, it will just blow our minds and ruin the plan entirely. Who is the master of this plan? I believe it to be God.
I use the term God loosely because I believe there is a force that is all-knowing and all-powerful, but even though the word "omnipotent" exists, there's no way we could possibly know what that entails or what it looks like in action. What does something look like when it creates, knows, watches, and orchestrates everything that exists in the known universe? There's no way to know, so faith is required to be humble enough to get through this gritty, dirty, and often mundane life. To think that we are the be-all end-all is just ridiculous. While I am a proponent of reason and logic, I believe they are faculties gifted to us by our creator. I don't think that we are equipped to understand or explain the force that created the universe, the sun, the moon, Earth, and its inhabitants; nor do I believe we can begin to grasp how it is controlled.
No matter how skewed or evil some forces in the world may be, how relentless nature can be, everything returns to a semi-peaceful balance at some point--a stasis. The fact that we haven't annihilated our species and blown up the planet is a miracle, and proof that equilibrium exists. I don't think all this happens by chance, or if it does, chance is controlled by a greater force disguised to look like what we call "chance", leading us to believe that we have "free will."
What's the reason for believing? Just as I think it's excessive to believe in the gilded gates and harps of a kingdom in the clouds, I believe it's obtusely selfish, narrow minded, and down right depressing to believe that there's nothing beyond what we can see in this life. Since the beginning of recorded history, people have imagined fantastic things about Heaven, various gods, and afterlives with good reason. Why do we decorate and put up lights for holidays and festive occasions? Why do we celebrate anything? Because without these beliefs and celebrations, our imaginations would be starved, and our lives would be dark, cold, purposeless, and pointless.
I'm in a good mood today. If you want to read more of what I think about a bleak life under the supervision of an unforgiving God whose existence I question, catch me on a bad day.
Ugh, my brain hurts. I know that this is a controversial topic, and my views change regularly. They've centered on optimism lately, though, because I'd rather try to be happy than sad and depressed. I've traveled the path of a skeptic, and it's not pleasant. I turned around midway and took the path of faith instead. I just keep my hand on the railing in case. Please don't be offended by any of this. I'm just a nobody who thinks he has a decent opinion...but you know what they say about opinions.
Last night, I was watching documentaries on Netflix with my boyfriend Corey. One of them was called "Park Avenue: Money, Power, and the American Dream," which features clips of Ayn Rand speaking about her vision of Laissez Faire Capitalism. This brought me into research mode, wanting to find out a little more about the Ayn Rand Institute. I have loved Ayn Rand and "Atlas Shrugged" for years, but I never knew that ARI was a political powerhouse. On my quest, I came across an article George Saunders had written for the New Yorker called "I Was Ayn Rand's Lover."
I had known about Ayn Rand's affair with Nathaniel Branden from reading her many biographies, in particular "The Passion of Ayn Rand." It creeped me out quite a bit back then, but now to see that she prowled on more than one innocent young man left me with a sour taste. If you know Ayn Rand and her philosophy of Objectivism, you wouldn't be too surprised that Nathaniel Branden was a target on her radar. To hear Saunders recount his having essentially been "raped" by her was a little off-putting to say the least, but his developing jealousy over Ayn having set her eyes on a young Paul Ryan disturbed me. It wasn't his feelings of jealousy that disturbed me, rather her voracious appetite for bedding young men in late puberty is what was particularly disturbing.
So, we now know of three men in their late teens who were successfully pursued by Ayn Rand. There are probably plenty more, but my interest stops there. Seeing Paul Ryan run wild with Ayn's version of Laissez Faire Capitalism as it pertains to our present day economy was like being punched in the gut by Ayn Rand herself. All of her theories sound good as just that -- a theory, but when put into practice as Paul Ryan has done as a congressman, they are truly frightening. I don't know what plagues me more: the affairs with young boys, or being disillusioned by Paul Ryan's crazy plans for American prosperity.
To understand what I'm talking about, you'll have to do a little research. Most of it can be done by watching the "Park Avenue" documentary, reading "Atlas Shrugged," "The Passion of Ayn Rand" (also a film), and then reading George Saunder's New Yorker piece (which is very well-written, I might add). It amounts to a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, I'll bet, because that's what I'm feeling right now. It can all be summed up in one word: UGH!
Watch the entire "Park Avenue" documentary:
Barbara Branden (Nathaniel Branden's wife) on The Passion of Ayn Rand:
Angelo Merendino Documents His Wife's Fight with Cancer
My Wife's Fight With Breast Cancer
by Angelo Merendino
The first time I saw Jennifer I knew. I knew she was the one. I knew, just like my dad when he sang to his sisters in the winter of 1951 after meeting my mom for the first time, “I found her.”
A month later Jen got a job in Manhattan and left Cleveland. I would go to the city – to see my brother, but really wanting to see Jen. At every visit my heart would scream at my brain, “tell her!!” but I couldn’t work up the courage to tell Jen that I couldn’t live without her. My heart finally prevailed and, like a schoolboy, I told Jen “I have a crush on you.” To the relief of my pounding heart, Jen’s beautiful eyes lit up and she said “Me too!”
Six months later I packed up my belongings and flew to New York with an engagement ring burning a hole in my pocket. That night, at our favorite Italian restaurant, I got down on my knee and asked Jen to marry me. Less than a year later we were married in Central Park, surrounded by our family and friends. Later that night, we danced our first dance as husband and wife, serenaded by my dad and his accordion – ♫ “I’m in the mood for love…”♫
Five months later Jen was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember the exact moment…Jen’s voice and the numb feeling that enveloped me. That feeling has never left. I’ll also never forget how we looked into each other’s eyes and held each other’s hands. “We are together, we’ll be ok.”
With each challenge we grew closer. Words became less important. One night Jen had just been admitted to the hospital, her pain was out of control. She grabbed my arm, her eyes watering, “You have to look in my eyes, that’s the only way I can handle this pain.” We loved each other with every bit of our souls.
Jen taught me to love, to listen, to give and to believe in others and myself. I’ve never been as happy as I was during this time.
Throughout our battle we were fortunate to have a strong support group but we still struggled to get people to understand our day-to-day life and the difficulties we faced. Jen was in chronic pain from the side effects of nearly 4 years of treatment and medications. At 39 Jen began to use a walker and was exhausted from being constantly aware of every bump and bruise. Hospital stays of 10-plus days were not uncommon. Frequent doctor visits led to battles with insurance companies. Fear, anxiety and worries were constant.
Sadly, most people do not want to hear these realities and at certain points we felt our support fading away. Other cancer survivors share this loss. People assume that treatment makes you better, that things become OK, that life goes back to “normal.” However, there is no normal in cancer-land. Cancer survivors have to define a new sense of normal, often daily. And how can others understand what we had to live with everyday?
My photographs show this daily life. They humanize the face of cancer, on the face of my wife. They show the challenge, difficulty, fear, sadness and loneliness that we faced, that Jennifer faced, as she battled this disease. Most important of all, they show our Love. These photographs do not define us, but they are us.
Cancer is in the news daily, and maybe, through these photographs, the next time a cancer patient is asked how he or she is doing, along with listening, the answer will be met with more knowledge, empathy, deeper understanding, sincere caring and heartfelt concern.
“Love every morsel of the people in your life.” – Jennifer Merendino
Published on Mar 30, 2013
The thing Jen loved the most about my camera was when I would hold it at arm's length and make a photo of the two of us. This video is a collection of some of these photographs. Since Jen passed passed from breast cancer, in December of 2011, I have looked at these photographs a countless amount of times. I still struggle to believe that Jen is not here with me. A few years ago I was the drummer in a band called Jonka, a group started by husband and wife duo Jon and Annika. Of all the bands I played in this was Jen's favorite, she loved Jon's quirkiness and Annika's beautiful voice. Aside from the catchy 80's pop hooks and dance beats, Jonka's lyrics make me think. The song in this video, Ever After, could easily have been written for Jen and me and it has become my anthem over the last few months.
Shane and Tom had a love that I am envious of. Both come from small towns with closed minded townspeople, and both have a similar history of being closeted gay men before coming out and embracing their sexuality. When they found each other, they began a love story that ended in tragedy. Bridegroom - The Movie documents their adventures together, spreading love and a message of hope to all those who felt their sexuality was wrong. What happens in the end is truly unfair, but the way Shane handles the situation is inspiring. Everyone, not just gay people, should watch this movie.
From the Bridegroom movie website:
"BRIDEGROOM is a documentary directed by Linda Bloodworth-Thomason that tells the emotional journey of Shane and Tom, two young men in a loving and committed relationship — a relationship that was cut tragically short by a misstep off the side of a roof. The story of what happened after this accidental death– of how people without the legal protections of marriage can find themselves completely shut out and ostracized– is poignant, enraging and opens a window onto the issue of marriage equality like no speech or lecture ever will.
Alonzo Clemons was born with many gifts, but society only saw his shortcomings. Mr. Clemons was institutionalized and deemed "bad" or "evil" by people who didn't even know him. This video shows a gifted artist who admits he has to work much harder than most to live a simple life.
This video shows us that we must not herd all challenged individuals into an institution, thinking it's what's best for them. Alonzo is proof that anyone can live the American Dream if they are willing to work for it, and not everyone who needs help is "bad," "damaged," or "evil."
> See the artistic talent of Alonzo Clemons on his website. <
Do you know what N.A.R.T.H. stands for? It stands for National Association for Research and Therapy for Homosexuality, also known as an organization that tries to cure gay people of their gayness.
When will people realize that being gay is something you're born with? The man in the picture, Dr. Joseph Nicolosi, is a medical doctor practicing in therapy for "ex-gay" patients. For the filming of the video to follow, they were unable to contact any of Dr. Nicolosi's patients who had been successfully "cured," but did speak with one man who was gay and proud.
To think the practice of "curing" homosexuality exists is frightening. On the dawn of gay marriage being legalized almost nation-wide, the archaic thinking required of heterosexuals to believe that homosexuality can be treated is congruent to thinking someone can be cured of their heterosexuality. Please take a look at the video below, and spread the word. This type of treatment should be put to a stop. The fact that it hasn't means there's a market for it, which means that there are lost homosexuals out there who have been taught to believe that they are wrong for feeling the way they do. That has got to be a painful existence.
I have been living in constant worry about what might happen if our economy collapses, which almost happened yesterday. Luckily, the government came to an agreement to put a stop to the shutdown, averting an economic crisis. The citizens of Venezuela, whose economy collapsed in the early 90's, were not so lucky, and were forced to find means to live where there were no means. In this TED Talk video, we find incredible ingenuity in the Venezuelan people, who took to an abandoned tower to build their homes. The "Tower of David" is a small city within a city, becoming home to hundreds of people, stores, taxis, and services like barber shops and electronics repair. It's rough around the edges, but it is so inspiring to see how these people adapted to the changing times, and utilized everything around them to make a "new normal." Here's one of my favorite TED Talks, "Ingenious Homes in Unexpected Places," given by Iwan Baan:
Award-Winning Journalist and Commentator Bill Moyers gets right to the heart of what the shutdown and debt ceiling threats are all about. He's right on, and it's very scary. Will the republicans really let us default? Is this the end of democracy? Should we all leave the country and emigrate to Canada? I'm seriously thinking about it, and thank God I'm a Democrat. Here's what Bill Moyers says in the "about" section of the video on YouTube, video to follow:
"This week's government shutdown has consequences for all of us, costing an estimated $300 million each day that the government is closed for business. Many Americans have voiced their frustrations with the fallout from the shutdown on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter using the hash tag #DearCongress. Here, Bill Moyers shares his own frustrations, admonishing the Republican Party for holding the country hostage via an irrational "ransom list" of demands — while sabotaging democracy in the process. "When the President refused to buckle to this extortion, they threw their tantrum," Bill says. "Like the die-hards of the racist South a century and a half ago, who would destroy the union before giving up their slaves, so would these people burn down the place, sink the ship." He goes on to tell us where the "reckless ambition" of the Republicans could lead us."
Listen, I understand the importance of the government shutdown and the roll-out of Obama Care, but that feeling of urgency is secondary to the most important things in my life. I have been blessed with the most amazing friends, family, therapist, and doctors a person could ever have. While I know it is imperative that we settle this impasse in government funding of the Affordable Care Act, I have a treatment team which includes my amazing therapist Nancy, who I can depend on to take good care of me despite the government being shuttered and all the problems surrounding enrollment in the Affordable Care Act.
My therapist would never let me go without care, neither would my doctors, friends, or family. I don't depend on the government to take care of me. I depend on my support system. I just feel so sorry for those Americans who have no one to depend on to take care of them should their health insurance or assistance be interrupted because of the government hullabaloo. I feel even sorrier for those people who have no one to advocate for them, ensuring they receive continued treatment--the best treatment for them--come hell or high water. It is so unfortunate that those people happen to be the most vulnerable: the homeless, the elderly, the mentally ill, the addicts, and the minorities.
Many would argue that they work long and hard to receive the health care that they have, but they are the ones who have it and never use it except for the routine check-up. My best advice for those in need of care, in any capacity, is to seek out community assistance and treatment. Most counties, and definitely those in Pennsylvania, have set aside funds to help members of their community in need of treatment and medical assistance. Community or county assistance is among the best resources in the country because they are invested in making sure that members of their immediate communities are well taken care of. Local constituents may also be of help, because they, just like the county, want to ensure that their communities aren't plagued by vagrants and crime. Safe, clean communities ensure these constituents will be re-elected time and time again.
Please, please e-mail me if you need help. I live in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and would be more than happy to help anyone local to me. Even if you aren't local, I'll help you as much as I can by doing research, making calls, or whatever else you may need. I want to help you just like I was helped when I was in need. I lay awake at night thinking of all the people in the world who die on the streets or alone in their homes because they have no one to care about them. I am here to tell you that I care. If you have a loved one that you'd like to help, but don't know where to begin, let me know. You have my word that I will do anything and everything I can to help. No matter who you are.
A struggling mother of twins asked her kids to write their Christmas lists early so she could scrimp and save enough money to buy them what they really wanted. She was shocked and touched by the letter her 8-year-old son Ryan wrote to Santa Claus.
He told Santa that he had wanted a few toys and electronics, but that he had changed his mind. His twin sister, Amber, had been the target of bullying for some time now. Attacks on her weight, appearance, and disabilities were too much for her to bear, and she told her mom that she wished she would die to escape the torment. As her twin, Ryan shared Amber's distress in a way that only twins can.
I've included the video here for you to watch, so I won't spoil it for you by commenting further. Just know that it is truly inspiring, touching, and worth spending 6 minutes on. Enjoy.
"Imagine using the biggest speech of your life to talk about your deepest inner struggles. That's exactly what the soldier here does as he's given the Medal of Honor."
How courageous is Ty Carter? I struggle with PTSD myself, and I know it's not easy to talk about. My trauma is similar to Ty's in that they stem from watching a loved one die in an awful way. So, I can appreciate what courage it took to not only admit it, but to so eloquently describe his trauma so that others living with PTSD know they're not alone is heroic. He is a two time hero in my book. Thanks, Ty Carter.
What is PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? Well, the National Library of Medicine defines it very simply as "a type of anxiety disorder. It can occur after you have gone through an extreme emotional trauma that involved the threat of injury or death." I can assure you it's much more complex than that. The disorder involves reliving the traumatic event in detail over and over, especially at night or when you're trying to relax. It is a vision that consumes you so wholly that you sometimes feel that it's really happening all over again, and all the while you're terrified that it will happen again in the future under different circumstances. It involves paralyzing fear while enduring vivid hallucinations of the event, sometimes rendering us either almost comatose or actively participating in the hallucination of the traumatic event to the horror of those around us. Suicidal thoughts and ideations are common, but we all live life just like anyone without PTSD, and we hide it well to the public.
If someone you love has PTSD, The National Center for PTSD has advice here. Gently asking the victim how they're feeling about the trauma and if they'd like to talk about it, on a regular basis, is so helpful. Therapy is best, though. The National Center for PTSD can be very helpful, but seeking regional resources might be the best route to take if you need to help a loved one with PTSD into treatment. Treatment saved my life.
Words to live by:
If you are depressed, you are living in the past.
If you are anxious, you are living in the future.
If you are at peace, you are living in the present.
My friend Andy posted a link to this obituary (to follow) which appeared earlier this evening on Gawker. Having grown up with a wonderful mother and grandmother, I can't say I relate to it much, but I can appreciate the lack of sentiment for a woman who must have been pure hell to live with. This obituary says so much in three short paragraphs. Take a look:
Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick born Jan 4, 1935 and died alone on Aug. 30, 2013. She is survived by her 6 of 8 children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way possible. While she neglected and abused her small children, she refused to allow anyone else to care or show compassion towards them. When they became adults she stalked and tortured anyone they dared to love. Everyone she met, adult or child was tortured by her cruelty and exposure to violence, criminal activity, vulgarity, and hatred of the gentle or kind human spirit.
Thank God I don't live a life that would warrant an obituary like this. As awful as she was to her kids, imagine what she must've felt like inside to be able to treat human beings as objects of torture. I believe she deserves to pay for her crimes, but I also hope she gets to feel love as well. It doesn't seem as though she ever felt it on earth.
UPDATE 09/12/13: The back story behind this scathing obituary came to light on the Huffington Post website yesterday afternoon. Apparently Marianne Reddick was either the foster or adoptive mother of these 8 children, 6 of whom are still alive. According to the story, the children's case was taken to court and resulted in legislation allowing children of abusive parents to terminate their parental rights. These kids aren't martyrs, they actually took action, and I admire them.
Yesterday evening, I was on my way to therapy, traveling along at a little under the speed limit because I was driving uphill and BAM! A young lady tried to beat me out by cutting me off to make a left hand turn. She came out of a residential street and across two lanes of traffic that are traveling uphill with a visibility handicap. How absent minded can you be? To this, my dad said, "That's why they call them accidents." He's right. We both (the other driver and me) went to Aria hospital which is right around the corner. She was complaining of back pain, and I had some killer burns and bruises on my arms and chest from the airbag deploying. Essentially, though, we're both fine. Especially if you take into account the damage that was done to both cars. It's the stuff of nightmares. I am so grateful that not just I, but both of us are alive. I couldn't live with myself if I killed or seriously injured another person, whether or not it was my fault. In this case, I had the right of way, and it was her fault for pulling right out in front of me, but had anything happened to her, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. But I don't have to worry about any of that, because my mom, my angel, was watching out for us that fateful moment when things could've gone very wrong. Much more so than they did. I am eternally grateful. So, so, so, so, so, so grateful. Thank you God, thank you mom, and whoever else there is to thank, thank you!
Some people don't listen to the radio in the car. Some only listen to talk radio. The first thing I do after starting the car, before I put my seat belt on, is to find a music station on the radio. Sometimes I can't find one that doesn't disgust me, and not because they're talking or airing too many commercials.
It's because the radio stations, at least in my area, play the same songs over and over again. Sometimes the same popular song is on as many as 4 different stations at once. This is so aggravating to me. Just give someone else a chance! There are plenty of great new releases that never get to see the light of day because Justin Timberlake and Bruno Mars are dominating the airwaves. I admit that these men are talented, but does that warrant preferential treatment?
Most radio stations seem to be a part of Clear Channel, and being part of a corporate conglomerate, they're forced to play everything on the Billboard Top 40. Talk about a catch 22: how can lesser known artists get on the charts if they're not on the radio for people to hear and subsequently purchase their music?
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My name is Nicholas Emeigh, but everyone calls me Nick, and I prefer it. I'm usually called Nicholas when I'm in trouble. I'm from the Philadelphia area, work in business, and fancy myself as a freelance graphic designer, writer, and artist. I have a passion for art in all its forms including music, but I restrict my singing to the shower and the car for the good of society. If you'd like to know more, just send me an e-mail. I really appreciate you stopping by.