The biggest thing I learned this year is that everything, EVERYTHING, eVeRy. LiTtLe. ThInG. you do is a representation of a bigger thing.
I learned that in yoga this year. Because everyone came there for a reason- to better their body, to better their mind, and to better their life. And practicing yoga was actually practicing life. The action of holding poses was the practice of stability in life. For me, it was the practice of something that I wasn’t very good at but something that was essential and had to start somewhere. Paying attention to your breaths was a representation of paying attention to living- not what you were doing, not why you were doing it, and not where you were going, but simply paying attention to the air flow of your body and how it keeps you alive. Digging your feet into the mat was a way of grounding yourself into the earth, feeling the weight you didn’t know you were carrying, and reminding yourself that you were here right now. Laying down and connecting with your thoughts was the process of becoming one with someone who I was ironically and profoundly unfamiliar with- myself, in this time. Being in your 20’s is weird. Nobody warned me about it, but I’m in the process of getting used to it. I promised myself that I wouldn’t post anything on my blog until I had the right thing to say- nothing bitter about my past, demanding sympathy, or begging to be heard. I just wanted it to be me writing again. When I started writing weeks ago, I saved all those pieces, but this is the one that I must share. Your general tendencies can be predicted by your smallest actions. The big picture is in the small picture. Your identity can be and will be rooted in what you do. Here are some more examples:
I like a lot of things, and I hate a few things too. I love writing so much though. And (begrudgingly, I admit) I love life too- the illogical inconsistencies, frustrating challenges, and every up/down. Sometimes, I think writing has to be the point of my life because it feels so good to put pen to paper and send something out to the world. This idea of purpose demands an unrealistic expectation from me to me- that I should spend more time writing, that I should finish some of the pieces I started, and that everything I write has to be objectively good. When I get too overly critical of it, I have to remind myself that I haven’t really practiced it that much (only 21+ years of living and 500+ hours of writing). When I get to the root of it all, I know what I need to do. I’ve been writing a lot lately, and I’ve found myself quite enjoying it in a way I had forgotten. I got so caught up in writing- the idea of it, finishing a big piece, and needing people to read it. I forgot how much I love the process of writing- choosing words, sentence composition, and letting words flow straight from your mind to your fingers. The process of yoga. The process of learning. The process of life. Call it what you want. I’m in the process of writing right now, and if that means what I think it means, bigger things are coming soon.
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Source Material Credit: ( I think the idea of the Hero’s Journey is really cool. We’re all the protagonist in our own stories, and the hero’s journey is the most applicable formula to the type of fiction I frequently read. When reading it, I’m naturally going to apply some of these elements to myself. I like the idea of the mentor figure. This website describes it, “The hero comes across a seasoned traveler of the worlds who gives him or her training, equipment, or advice that will help on the journey.” To me, this figure would be Brian Proffer, my direct advisor last year and this year’s life coach/crisis manager/coffee BOGO buyer. Yesterday, on an emergency Biggby run, I told Brian all about the struggles of my day, while he listened patiently. I told him about how my heat was broken in my apartment and how I woke up early because it was 55 degrees. I told him about how I thought my laptop was broken all morning, and it turned out to be the outlets in the office. I told him about the test that I did great on, but I felt like I should have done better because I had all the tools I should’ve needed to get 100 percent. When I was done, he simply told me, “Well, you’re still standing.” Brian always finds the perfect thing to say to me. He was right, and I think he had that line prepared when I started talking. In a lot of ways, my day yesterday is how I feel about the whole semester. There are so many parallels, I can’t even begin to describe it: the cold start, the part where I misjudged the source of a problem, and the part where I didn’t give myself nearly enough credit because I thought I should’ve done better given the resources around me. I learned a lot this semester. I learned that there’s a lot out of your control, and you need to learn how to let it go. I learned how valuable time is and how easy it is to consume it. I learned how to manage time better too. I learned more about what I want to do with my life, even if I didn’t find the solution. I learned that I can’t keep everyone happy all the time. I learned that I have a great degree of influence over people, even though I can’t always control what that result of that influence is. I learned that people are beginning to lose passion about things they used to care about, and that’s deeply concerning to me. I think about it every day and night. I got a lot better at a lot of things. I stayed the same at some things that I wanted to get better at because I refused to say them out loud. I’m still too scared to say a lot of those things out loud because I don’t want to commit to them and have them not come true. It’s easy to get lost in those, but I am still standing. In the context of this day, this semester, and my life, I am still standing, and I suppose that’s good enough for now. I have a lot of thinking to go do this winter break. For now, I think the idea of the Hero’s Journey is really cool. Because it’s refreshing to think that I’m still in the ordinary world and that great things are ahead. Thank you, Brian, for making me realize that. In the meantime, I’m going to figure out where I am in this inner journey. My guess is that it’s a different place entirely and not as great as I’d like to pretend. Thank you to some of the other mentors in my life for making me realize that.
Everything is connected. Context is important. Tonight, and throughout the first few weeks of break, I’m going to do some incredibly stupid and mindless things. I think I deserve them. Thank you to everyone who helped me make it through this semester. You were all mentors in some way. I’ll make sure to keep you updated on my extraordinary feats moving forward. When I think about my writing or about my life, I think about how it is cyclical. I write, think, and live the same things in different ways all the time. Four years ago, I wrote an essay about happiness when I applied to the University of North Carolina. Four weeks ago, I adapted that essay to be a poem for a personal project in my portfolio class. Four months ago, I wrote this piece for this blog.
unc_essay.pdf Fidget spinners, Pokémon Go, and non-conventional sexual acts. Not a lot of people would have the moxie to tie these three things together, but with so many negative things going on in the world, I feel the need to. Somebody somewhere likes these things, whether you do or do not. That’s why they exist. Because they serve a purpose, and they make someone happy. On the subject of fidget spinners, I think it was such a cruel thing to take away from people. Originally designed to help people in the workplace cope with fidgeting, studies showed that the fidget spinner increased productivity and engagement for those in the workplace and classroom while decreasing anxiety. Regardless of where you stand on political, social, and digital issues, I think we can all agree that now seems like a time when we really need something like that- just a small thing that makes our day more enjoyable. For someone, that was a fidget spinner. Somebody somewhere really needed that and you took that from them with your dumb jokes online, whether you meant them or not. On the subject of Pokémon Go, I admit that it’s one of my many bad habits. Some people drink and smoke, but I eat mac n cheese, ice cream, drink diet soda, bite my finger nails, and play Pokémon Go. It’s what makes me happy. I’m a firm believer that we need to occasionally indulge in our bad habits, which is tricky to justify at times. Bad habits are not efficient, but nothing was ever going to be efficient because you would go insane without your indulgences. I’ve had a lot of people question how I could play so much Pokémon Go or what I get from it, and that’s fine. You don’t have to innately understand what about Pokémon Go makes me happy. In fact, seeking understanding is a part of the process, but you cannot ostracize me or make fun of me because of how I choose to spend my time. I’m sure you have a bad habit or hobby that I don’t understand. Why do we do it? Because it makes us happy. On the subject of non-conventional sexual acts, this is a tough one to write about delicately. When I started my blog, I wanted to write about things I believe in, and I’m an advocate of normalizing conversations about sexuality. The things we like sexually are as complex and innate in our being as the things we like in our day to day life. I didn’t wake up one day and decide to like Pokémon Go. I liked it because it conforms to my personality and what I like doing. This goes beyond gay/straight or BDSM. This is for anyone who is embarrassed of their non-conventional sexual desires, fetishes, or past relationships. Don’t be. Because those desires are a part of you that should be embraced and accepted so long as they are a part of a healthy sexual relationship with consenting partners. You do it because it makes you happy. That’s my whole argument. I wrote about it years ago and my outlook on life has not changed. You shouldn’t have to fight it. You shouldn’t have to justify yourself. Just do it. Do what makes you happy. Share your stories about things that make you happy. Stop ostracizing others and seek understanding of things that make them happy. Because if you’re not willing to fight for the happiness of yourself and others, what are you willing to fight for? happiness.pdf Happiness is a central theme of my writing because it is what I always come back to when I think about purpose. Simply put, the goal of every day is to be happier than you are sad. I also understand that it’s more complex than this, but that’s the point of the piece. Disclaimer: your actions have consequences, and you need to make sure that they aren’t destructive to other people. But also, take a breath, stop overthinking everything, and start doing the things that make you happy. I’ve written about this so many times, and I wrote this four months ago. So why now? Honestly, we are living in a world where negative news dominates. It feels like every day there is another mass shooting, problematic political ruling, celebrity case of sexual misconduct, or death of a person that I idolized as a child. If we have to restrain the little things that make us happy on top of this, I think we are doomed. To be honest, I am at a crossroads in my life too. Even though it’s months away, my graduation is a looming deadline of perhaps the biggest transition I will undergo in my lifetime. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on what makes me happy currently and what will make me happy moving forward. I have some big decisions to make, and I have some little decisions to make too. I’ve been finding the little things that push my day from bad to good, and I’ve been picking out big things to focus on moving forward. I’m not always going to do things that people around me agree with or understand, and that’s okay. If you would like, please seek understanding from me. I’d be happy to try to explain my actions to you, and I’d love to keep everyone I have in my life moving forward. In late May and early June of 2017, my parents and I went on a two-week road trip out west. I was looking to see if Seattle was a place that I could live and work after I graduate, but I also wanted to explore areas of the United States that I had never been before. Before I recount the trip, I have to give thanks to my parents for setting aside the money and time to do this trip, especially while they put me through college. I recognize that the ability to go on trips like this is an absolute privilege, so I try my best to fully appreciate them. The vacation is especially good for the soul, so I recommend anyone take them however they can, even if it’s a day off work spent in the backyard with sunglasses and festive clothing (I’ve done that one too). As a creative, vacations are ways that I recharge and let my brain rest while still learning more about myself and the world around me. By the end of a vacation, I have more than enough inspirations to act on until the next one. Writer’s block turns into words that I can think faster than I can type. A blank page turns into this: Admittedly, this is the picture that inspired me to go to Seattle. Not a personal recommendation or article online, just this Microsoft-featured background and a gut feeling that somewhere in the world, there was a city that somehow balanced urban life, modern architecture, a chain of mountains, abundant nature, and the Pacific Ocean pushed up against the city to top it all off. On another level, this trip is one that I’ve idealized for years, since I drafted up the “four corners” vacation in High School. The four corners are Seattle, Los Angeles, Miami, and Boston, but you would go through Chicago, Minneapolis, Mt. Rushmore, Yellowstone, Portland, San Francisco, the Grand Canyon, Houston, New Orleans, Atlanta, Virginia Beach, Washington DC, Philadelphia, and New York City too. Like my standards for Seattle, this trip was a far-fetched fantasy. But the part of the four corners trip that I specifically dreamed about was the west. I had this idea of the grandeur of the west that needed to be seen for myself. The challenge was that I really wanted to drive so that I could see it all and really understand the geography and culture of the area. Fortunately, neither of my parents like flying, so we set aside time to do the vacation as a road trip. ***** When we finally departed, I was excited to let go of the anxieties of day-to-day life and recharge. I was so excited that I forgot the first two days would be completely full of driving. Still, I found ways to keep entertained. I read books like Life of Pi and A Dog’s Purpose. I watched as we drove by wind farms filled with steel giants among the miles of flat land. I daydreamed about climbing the wind turbines and fighting them like a modern Don Quixote. I found myself talking to my parents about things we hadn’t talked about in years. We talked about things that happened years ago that changed us into the people we are today as the landscape around us slowly changed from suburban Michigan to the western landscapes I’ve dreamed about. I watched the Mississippi River cut through rock formations that would be unfathomable thousands of years before the river started running through it. It reminded me how marvelous life is. On the third day, we realized that vacation was more than just driving in the car, eating out, living out of bags, and staying in hotels. We stopped at Wall Drug, the first western tourist attraction. Wall Drug kind of reminds me of an inside joke. After driving on I-90 for thousands of miles, you see upward of ten billboards for Wall Drug. When you arrive, it kind of just is. It’s a tourist trap full of free attractions, overpriced souvenirs, and a cafeteria with “free ice water.” After Wall Drug, we drove through the Badlands, the first national park I had ever visited. Being from a different area, you come to appreciate the new landscapes and wildlife. It was the exact type of adventure that I was seeking out west: walking out on rock formations that make my parents nervous and seeing Bison and Prairie Dogs in their natural environment. We transitioned steadily from natural to man-made environments when we went to Mount Rushmore, which is an underrated story of ambition and vision. Until you see it, you don’t really stop to think about how strange it is to see four presidents sculpted out of the side of a mountain. I found myself looking at it for way longer than I thought I could. I felt overwhelmingly patriotic and proud of my country, which isn’t something I usually feel. It was what I felt when I was surrounded by a group of diverse Americans marveling in the same inspired artwork that I was. It also dawned on me that I was exploring the vastness of the United States and its diverse landscapes. For the first time, I found myself proud of where I was from: Michigan, United States. So, I wore my Detroit Tigers shirt and American flag swim trunks with pride that day. As we drove away from Mount Rushmore, I couldn’t help but wonder why the sculpture was never finished to their original plan. Was it because they had high expectations that they made it as far as they did? Or was it a failure to follow through on the sculpture in its entirety? Did they just fear that if they pushed it too far the sculpture would crumble? When you see it in person, you can see slight outlines of the original plan and you can only wonder what happened. It’s an absolute spectacle to behold in person, but a true creative can’t help but see what could be more. My creative mind took over a lot during the trip and thought about how much more it all could be. Still, my favorite places we went to were the unexpected ones. Buffalo Bill Dam was a stop on the side of the road surrounded by larger than life rock formations that start to look like sculptures of animals and objects if you look at them for long enough. The slow yellow river on one side is contrasted with the clear rushing waterfall of the dam itself, and when the sun hit the dam in just the right place, a rainbow erupted from the canyon. Yellowstone was as beautiful as I imagined it too. Seeing the ice caps melt off the mountains and cascade down onto the road was another perk of the west. It was a marvel to see more animals in their native land and the lake reflect the mountain range around it. It’s a challenge to even describe the beauty that you see in these national parks, and it gets to a point where you finally understand what people meant when they said to go see them for yourself. It’s a must. The night after Yellowstone, we were trapped in the smallest hotel room we had been in all trip. I found myself wondering why everything couldn’t be as beautiful and open as the national parks. I figured that there had to be a balance, some cramped spaces in order for there to be some open spaces. That explanation sufficed for long enough that I could sleep for the night. And I slept in that morning too. It was probably the longest I slept the whole vacation. ***** By the end of the first week, we had already stopped at most of the major things we wanted to see, and we were headed into Seattle. To me, the drive there was like watching the golden gates to your new mansion slowly unfold. The landscape went back from nothingness to magic. Gaps between tall pine trees would reveal views of the mountains around the highway or an organic waterfall cascading down the side of the mountain. At times, the drive into Seattle honestly took my breath away. By the time we arrived to our hotel and got out of the car, I felt a cool ocean breeze, colder than I had thought but refreshing all the same. Here I was in the place that I had imagined being for so long, and I was going to enjoy every second of it. I started by enjoying authentic Seattle garlic fries and Starbucks from the city where it was born. We went to a Seattle Mariners game at Safeco field. The whole night held this overwhelming feeling that it was going to rain, but I forgot all about it when we got to the baseball game because the roof of the stadium was closed. We sat closer than we ever had to the field and watched a game that I grew up loving and I still love watching, dreaming about playing on that field even though I know it’s too late to try. During the first night, it rained a lot, but it didn’t put much of a damper on our desire to do touristy things. Yet, after the first night of magic and fireworks, it just was. Like Wall Drug was like every other tourist trap, Seattle was like any other city. It was full of its own tourist traps, fancy restaurants, and traffic (lots of it too). On the second day, we took in the view of Seattle from Kerry Park, which is the picture you’ve probably seen of Seattle with the Space Needle in the foreground and the ocean on the side. It reminded me of the grandeur of the picture that inspired me to go to Seattle but I felt like my dream was slipping away. By the third day in Seattle, it had lost its grandeur completely. And by the final night, even a grand dinner on the ocean couldn’t make me feel like I was full. I felt an empty, nagging pain in my heart. I felt defeated because for so long I had felt like Seattle was the right place to go, but it wasn’t all that. When we drove away from Seattle, I found myself wondering what the purpose of this whole trip was. I had been raised to trust my gut feelings, and like that, the rug was pulled out from under me. I couldn’t quite understand what this feeling meant, and I didn’t know why I had felt with my whole body that it was important to go out west. Did I gain some idea about myself in Seattle? Did I get a cool idea for my writing without realizing it? Was I learning that it was just as important to learn about things that don’t interest me as things that do? Maybe it was some combination of all of these. But Seattle fell as flat as the picture that inspired me to go there. ***** At the time that I most needed it, another unexpected gem popped up. The coasts of Oregon along the 101 were a combination of the precarious rock formations of the Badlands and California-esque beaches. We found another fancy beachside restaurant, and this time, I was able to enjoy the food to completion. I listened to a new indie album on Spotify, and it was exactly what I needed too. Even though I was grouchy the entire day, I was jamming when I was listening to my music and watching the sun set on coastal Oregon. We stayed in the most perfect hotel that night. I took a walk along the beach in the dusk. Of all the views on the whole vacation, it was the prettiest. Just the cold ocean, miles of sand, one rock formation, and a whole lot of air. I think it was the most open view of the world I had ever seen. When I got back, I wrote down ideas for writing. I wrote about a guy who follows a love interest across the country because he has a gut feeling that it will work out for him in an idealized romcom sort of way. But when he gets there, it doesn’t work out. He realizes that he read everything wrong. He has nothing left but to swallow the nasty bile that builds up in his throat. I stopped to wonder if this was a good idea for a novel because it was so senselessly tragic. I rationalized it by saying that it’s relatable. We can’t all have happy endings, and we all have shitty things happen to us occasionally. When we got to California, I started rapidly checking things off my bucket list. We went through the drive-thru tree and explored more of the Redwoods in the Avenue of the Giants. The only thing I had to compare the Redwoods to was a roller coaster or skyscraper. It was all like part of the four corners trip I had drafted up so long ago, and I was reminded again why I wanted to go out west. Suddenly, I had enough background to continue a novel I had started writing so long ago. The next day, we made it into San Francisco. I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, which wasn’t as fulfilling as I thought it would be, but it was a check on the bucket list nevertheless. I enjoyed an ice cream sundae from Ghirardelli’s, which, like the rest of the city, was almost too sweet to enjoy in one sitting. We walked off the ice cream by going four blocks uphill, and by the time we got there, we were so dizzied that the wavy brick path of Lombard Street almost looked straight. San Francisco was almost more of my Seattle than Seattle because I really liked the city. But we couldn’t stay there long enough to get a better feel for it because we had to be home in four days. ***** On the first day driving back, we weren’t planning on stopping for lunch, but we all got so hungry we stopped at a place in Nevada called Downtown Diner. It was almost too good to be true to have homestyle food after more than a week of eating out. I’m pretty sure their mac n cheese was just Kraft, which is my favorite anyways. My parents and I ended up playing trivia at the restaurant, which was the most we had talked and laughed since before Seattle. When we left, I told my Dad that it seemed like we ended up at all these little unexpected places for a reason and that they were my favorite part of the trip. On the second day driving back, nothing of note happened. We went to a bad restaurant for dinner but my Dad dismissed it as Google Maps owing us one bad recommendation after all the good ones it gave us on the way there. I’m impressed with how content he is to believe in the balance of life, because it means you find just as many bad things as good ones. On the third day driving back, I noticed that the car passing us in the Fastlane was from California. I wondered if they were a family going to explore the East Coast to fulfill fantasies they heard about New York City. They could go all the way down the coast to a Florida paradise, only to find that their favorite place was North Carolina. On the fourth day, I noticed that the sun was behind us. Logically, I already knew it set in the west, but somewhere in there, I knew there was some sick symbol about driving into the sun when we were going out west. Maybe driving so much into the sun that it was blinding us, but it was a whole lot more beautiful on the way there. When we drove back, it was behind us, and it felt hot on the back of our necks. We knew that the sun was setting on our vacation. By the fourth night, we were home again. I started reading Room, and I felt trapped in the Room with them. Or maybe I was just trapped in my own head after the whole vacation. I was still unsure what the point of it all was. I didn’t know what I was going to tell my friends when I saw them again. I knew it would be easy to weave this tale about our grand trip out west, how much I loved Seattle, and how I was going to look for jobs there when I graduated. Believe me, I’m a storyteller. It would’ve been easy. But that wasn’t what I was going to do. I was just going to tell them all that it went great. I was going to search for a purpose in that trip until I was satisfied enough with something I made up and then I was going to move on. And then I was going to change my background from that stupid picture of Seattle to something more practical like this: I wish I could tell you that I had deduced some purpose from that trip. The best thing I have is that I wrote this. It seems like it could be relatable enough. Sometimes, you get this gut feeling that you feel like you have to follow. It’s something different for everyone, but for me, it was Seattle. And sometimes, when you follow this gut feeling, it just doesn’t work out. This feeling or ending wasn’t what you had in mind, and you just have to realize that your gut was wrong. That’s all you have, and it’s not satisfying at all.
So, you have to find all these little things in the journey that make it seem worth it. And those were there too. The views at Buffalo Bill Dam, the time I got to spend getting closer to my family, coastal Oregon, and the ideas I got for future writing are all there too. Maybe there’s something more in there that I ought to search out, and in the future, I probably will. But that’s what life is. It’s idealizing things and finding these little gems in the journey and having wrong gut feelings and trying to make sense out of them. That’s life. That’s psychology. That’s purpose. For me, that was Seattle.
My first website, my first blog post, and my first completed piece of writing. Everything ties together in the end.
I have debated back and forth about publishing this for a LONG time. At first, it was too soon and my thoughts were too close to my heart to publish to everyone. Now, these thoughts seem far away and while it makes it easier to publish, I wonder if it’s nearly as significant as when I first wrote it. Beware: the attached PDF is lengthy. It is my first ever completed work in writing, a collection of essays, poems, and short stories that I completed as a senior project in high school. I called it, “You Can Lead A Horse To Water, But You Can’t Make Him Think,” which I now regret as a title because I think it’s lengthy, cheesy, and inappropriately capitalized. Unfortunately, you can’t change what you wrote so long ago, but you can learn from it. At the time, the title was a symbol to me that there was so much more to life than school. Taking advanced classes in a suburban education system is something that’s really easy to get lost in, and I found myself in that trap. I didn’t find it particularly challenging or rewarding, which was disappointing because school was the majority of my life. Even just reading the foreword establishes this and many other themes throughout the work. When I wrote it, I was establishing my identity and discovering my creativity and ability to express myself. Throughout the work, you can see themes of my struggle with incompetence and the inability to finish projects that I’ve started. As a creative, this is something I struggle with every day. I come up with so many ideas, but I don’t always see them through. This project is significant to me because it’s the first thing I saw all the way through. Another theme that comes up is struggling to accept my privilege as a white male in the middle-upper class. This is something that I still struggle with, and this is a struggle I have never made public (until now). One thing that I want to make clear with this is that I apologize if any of the thoughts I share are inconsiderate or if any of the identities that I represented in the writing are offensive. The biggest takeaway from re-reading my work is that I learned to be more intentional, educated, and thoughtful when writing about identities that I don’t share with my characters. I thought about editing or removing some of these pieces, but I ultimately decided that it was more important to me to preserve the original work and learn from the potentially offensive mistakes of it. I am still learning about identities and getting better with them every day. I encourage anyone who noticed something in the work to engage in a conversation with me and better educate me about that perspective. I can hopefully share my perspective at the time and how it’s changed as well. This is the way we can best learn. When reading the whole piece, I think my biggest strength shows through. In my writing, I show that I have this complex desire to be both creative but also stick to a formula or structure within the work, balancing my left brain and right brain. I think I did a really good job of weaving together all my ideas in a very intentional, crafty way. Many of the stories in this are dreadful, but I think some of them are incredible, especially when you realize they were written by a high schooler. As a whole, I love the work because I think it represents really well who I was at that time. In Meaninglessness, I publish most of my writing exercises, let myself be silly, and write a lot of stories with faux symbols that mean absolutely nothing to me. This was the way I get my creative juices flowing. In Despair, I share my dark side with angsty poems and pessimistic stories representing my biggest fears at the time. In Purpose, I share core values that I found over my time in high school through stories and essays. In the biggest mic drop of the work, I end with some of the longest stories I’ve ever written and the biggest symbol of my completed successes outside of the high school. By the end, somehow all of these ideas are connected as one thing that was entirely made by me. I’m ultimately grateful that I re-read my work and that I’m finally publishing it, even if it’s only on my blog. I learned a lot about myself from re-reading it, and I’m more inspired than ever to continue working on my writing. In publishing this, I’m confirming that it’s the one piece I’ve finished. Putting yourself out there is one of the scariest and most rewarding things you can do. If you took the time to read (the blog or the writing), I greatly appreciate it and let me know what you think. robert h stonik |
AuthorI am a proud creative, U-M LSA employee, University Activities Board at Michigan State University alumni, pro wrestling fan, Detroit sports follower, Nintendo geek, and sandcastle champion. Categories |