Personal testimonies and autobiographies are inevitably biased; it is human nature to display our best qualities and sway public opinion within our favor. And while flipping through the black Moleskine notebook I record every passing thought in, I recognize the simultaneous beauty and flaw of my own humanity. It may not be in my best interest to expose my every secret, to divulge my passing fancies, but these thoughts are a far more accurate representation of who I am as compared to who I may claim to be.
- One of the older waiters I was talking to brought up some interesting questions like, “Why are you here? (Earth, Sitwells, etc.)” and “What is success?” It’s become so easy to judge and measure success relative to peers, relives, colleagues, and people in general. But what IS success by my standard? What do I want out of life and how could I possibly obtain what I desire?
- The solid clicks of my heels reverberate off the walls and I am powerful.
- Art? Art is a perspective. And therefore completely subjective. Please ignore the unintentional rhyme.
- I’ve missed this. Sitting in this booth, writing until my hand goes numb and I start to see double because my handwriting is so small.
- I’m trying to sound clever and philosophical, but all anyone ever hears is gibberish.
- We’re all living and dying at the same time.
- Hiking in Heels – my autobiography