As if you care any more to read it than I do to tell it, here goes:
People tell me I am an artist, I'm not sure I believe them. I create things, but I do that because I must; when those things are inside you, you have to let them out. It is that act of release that I enjoy: for the act of creation brings a far greater reward than the product of its toil.
Whether artist, philosopher, critical thinker, or Rennaissance Man, I am one of the world's Great, trapped inside what is generally a pauper's life, awaiting a benefactor to release me from worldly worries so that I may fully unleash what is pent up within.
...Any takers?