
… the time. The hardest part of being alone was coming to terms with the inferiority of my own mind. This summer taught me that the real challenge of writing, for me, was not motivation or time. It was to constantly confront my own mediocrity and to not look away.
…inty of their opinions and taste roared over my own tentative instincts when it came to making art. All this noise was so constant and pervasive that it was nearly undetectable. It was only when another sound presented itself that I realized it was there at all. For me, writin…