I find it incredibly ironic that the bulk of my freelancing work lately is centered around writing about art.  I went to college to be a working artist, not an art historian.  I don't mind writing, but it is something that seriously grinds my soul into dust when it turns into a full-time job.  But I need the cash...  Funny how things work out.  Not "ha-ha" funny...  Bull*#$! funny.

I guess in the end I shouldn't complain.  Right?  I am sitting at a desk typing on a keyboard.  I could be selling death-sentence potato remnants through a sliding window to snotty college kids at 2:00 AM instead.

Ugh.  I just want to draw...