Sixteen years ago I was capable of pursuing an art career.

I landed my first job at nineteen and moved into an apartment a year later. That job covered my living expenses while having disposable income to invest in my art. My apartment was large enough to create a small but dedicated art space. Developing a fanbase with my art would take some years before my art could support me, so this beginning was perfect.

Also, I love my job. I still had the stamina to create outside of my 40-hour work week.

But what I was capable of never manifested. Many internal behaviors and habits fizzled my creative pursuits.

No execution to any goals I set for myself.

No discipline even after learning how to be a professional artist.

Doubt inspired by weeks and months I didn’t draw.

Allowing pleasures and distractions to take the fore front of my life.

The art supplies, books, recorded lectures, and notes became nothing but decoration pieces in the apartment of someone who didn’t do art.

Sixteen years can turn a beginner, no-name artist into a well known professional. A draftsman earns a Bachelor’s Degree and intern experience in half the time. To do nothing within the same period is as close to a failure as anyone can be.

The choice I made sixteen years ago gave me the life I live now. I chose to be a spectator of art when I wanted to be an artist. I chose to only consume when I found fulfillment in creating. I lax on many wonderful opportunities. I now live the results of those choices.

I chose to fail.