Astoundingly, I was not the recipient of any electro-convulsive therapies, or even any drugs. They simply kept me there for a thirty day evaluation period, at the end of which, it was declared, by some nameless authority, that there was nothing wrong with me, and I was sent home, angry at my mother.
I positioned myself on the side of the highway with my thumb out. “I’m gonna hitch us a ride”. The first truck sped by, but when the second came, I put a little more effort forth, waving my arms about while trying to hold up my sheet. As the driver began to slow, I looked back and winked at Risa. When he stopped, I yelled above the noise and heat of the truck that we needed a ride. He said something but I couldn’t hear him. “What??” I yelled. He motioned with his head for me to climb up the truck to get closer. I did so and explained, still in the same volume, that my friend and I needed a ride. “Okay, hop in.”
"There must be something special about me", I began to think, "and it’s probably that I am a spy".
Funny thing my son said when he was four...
Web logo design work progression
Links to resources for student services for professionals who assist students with disabilities in navigating the transition from college to the working world.
Work product from my first graphic design gig.
This was extremely important to me when I started it in February. Heh. Still matters. Which is why I might redo the whole thing and make it better. Or not. Boundaries are Magic Alright
Amoment when I was swept away by my art. It got me and would not let go. Still hasn't.