It never ceases to amaze me how hard artists are on themselves. It also never ceases to amaze me how the arts attract some of the most intelligent, ambitious and interesting people – who could easilly sit in high-paying jobs eating complimentary muffins in meetings – but who instead choose a life which could make them very poor and paranoid.

Art is a lifestyle not just a job and the hugeness can be overwhelming. The pursuit and task too inexorable, too complex and never-ending. The effort required is mammoth.

But as my mother would say when I was in highschool and the task ahead seemed unconquerable: “How do you eat an elephant? One piece at a time.” (Sometimes I would respond through my fat, gooey tears “Um… with my mouth…?”)