I've always wanted to make.
Much to the frustration of my parents, I was almost steadfastly against doing anything they wanted me to do in lieu of crafting elaborate sand-forts with whatever odd thing I could use for a mold, drawing characters for some imagined video game that I knew that I would one day make. Eventually I took up taping pictures I liked to my bedroom walls in an attempt to create some kind of bizarre narrative.
Mostly, though, I just wanted to cover up as much as the walls as possible with whatever folderol I managed to get my mitts on. I was a would-be artist by way of the magpie.
Eventually I was convinced that I needed to abandon my creations and doodles so that I could be a responsible adult. For many years I failed miserably at that. I dropped out of high school during my second senior year. My only saving grace being my proficiency with computers in a time when everyone and their mother needed someone to work in IT.
Many years and far too many dissatisfying jobs later, I was given a Father's Day gift of a Wacom tablet (despite my son not being born yet - my wife was getting ahead of the game). I largely spent my time drawing obscene doodles for friends online, until one of said friends introduced me to someone who was looking to hire an illustrator. I honestly didn't think that I was good enough to be hired, but I put my hat in the ring, anyway.
I was brought on the same day my son was born.
Working in a illustration job brought me out of the stupor I had been put in since I had to hang up my creative mantle. While it was later in the game than I had thought it would be when I went back to school, I decided to pursue a fine arts degree at CCRI. Inspired by and learning from some of the greatest people I've come across, professors and students alike, any doubt in my mind that I should be doing anything but making was disintegrated.