The drive to create art and find a position, a career that I love grows in me every day. Everything and everyone else is falling to the wayside and my time is consumed with this. It's hard not to have hope right now that a door will open, but I am not young enough anymore to be naive that it will open soon enough. So I settle my bones in for the long haul, and a look of grit and a hard-set jaw stares back at me in the mirror as I push ever forward, always onward. When I am unhappy I work hard to the point of restlessness to change my circumstances as much as I can. I am grateful for friends who help me along this path, who edit my letters and papers and art unendingly, willingly, with a fresh eye to give me ready and honest feedback. My friend Shen and I set a pact with the same goal- it is great consolation knowing that these long nights aren't in solitude- that a time zone away she is too working to achieve a goal.
Always pushing forward.
Always.
Longingly looking back. I miss London this week terribly. I cannot wait to go to Boston at the end of the month! 17 days! I have so many phone calls to return... hang in there, friends, family.
I need a book recommendation. Camus?
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