Counting down the days (two) until I start school, the much-coveted 12 student class I got accepted into.

At times I feel very much not like an artist. And now I am known for my work, not my art. But then I get into a hard-to-get-into artist's programs and it doesn't feel too bad.

But I must remind myself that things are moving. I was asked to make a poster. I was invited to participate in a book fair for which I am making a zine. Additionally, I was asked to curate a show and I was also invited to be part of a group show.

It's just I truly feel "different". I know a lot of people feel this way. Despite a feeling as a person I am popular, I don't feel at home as an artist.

Oh well! In any event I am producing work.

But quite honestly I am truly grateful for my life. I wish that my own art was the focus. But maybe that is not my destiny. It could very well be always on the back burner. Is this something I can live with? I ask myself these questions at 35 and I don't have an answer. Perhaps I am tired. I see ambition in the very young artists in town and I vividly remember feel clumsily ambitious in the same way. In the meantime, things became too painful, and the distractions of adulthood too great. I don't know, for me I couldn't focus. There was always something horrible happening to me.

But in the past three years I have had nothing but improvements in my life, even if things aren't perfect. Trust me, I am always counting my blessings. But as an artist, I am deeply unfulfilled.

Here's to school and my presence in the world as an artist.