It’s been almost 30 years since I figured out — much to my surprise — that what I really wanted more than anything else vocationally was to be an artist. And I’ve spent most of the years since then explaining to myself over and over why this isn’t possible.
After enough reasonable explanation, I start getting numb to what I want. I forget what it feels like. I turn my attention elsewhere and tell myself that realistic people do other things. Maybe I can make filmmaking a hobby if I do really well for awhile at something I hate.
Doesn’t that make sense? I can make a few hundred thousand dollars a year as a real estate broker. How about that? Isn’t that more realistic? Sure. Why not. I’ll do that. It all makes so much sense. And it sounds so responsible.
And so I start burying what I know — every now and then, at least — that I want. Until somebody comes along and pokes a stick at something I try hard not to look at.
That’s what happened today.

Death of classmate from past feels like a reminder to change my life
After years of silence, it’s time to tell the truth about my father
Pro-free market candidates don’t promise price targets on gasoline
We frequently go back to the past hoping to find a different future
Why do so many find it funny to embarrass the people they love?
Pursuing transcendent meaning is rebellion against modern culture
Doing the right thing frequently requires breaking immoral laws
Love & Hope — Episode 2: