Day 6

Tucked away in a third floor conference room on the northwest end of my campus, 

hanging quietly above the door, is this gem.

Can I tell you a secret? 

I love it.

Because for every flaw and struggle I face within myself, 

I know that I am doing at least one thing right by devoting my life, and my education (along with thousands of dollars of tuition) to my greatest passion.

It's not always an easy choice. I am constantly hounded and nagged by the left-brained creatures of the world who wonder aloud,
"What are you going to do with that?"

Or perhaps more accurately, "What are you going to do with that?"

Often I am pressed to reply, "Be happy."

Someday I will tell you about the moment I decided I wanted to dedicate my life to art history, naysayers and worried mothers be damned. 

The moment I stood alone in a sea of faceless blurs and saw only art. 

The moment I felt home. 

But for today, just know this: 

At 9:30 this morning I sat down in that conference room 

and glanced up at those words, 

and felt for the thousandth time since that first magical moment, 

that I was right where I belonged. 

 And I love every minute.