Recovering my source

Alright, so I got, like, 10 minutes to my name. I wish I had brought something to write on/in. I wish I had access to my photograph library, and my paints and brushes — or my notes where I’d been trying to remember who I am (as flawed — or not — as that is) and working out what I can say and haven’t said.

Tapping into all that stuff last night made me remember. It’s like not having enough water, finally going to the effort to dig a well, and finding a spring right below the surface.

No, it isn’t what everyone would understand. But it’s me.

What I can say is that I know the Master’s program is preparing me for much more than Library work. I haven’t sought out what else I can use it for yet, though.

And I won’t even really know how to program (with, say, Javascript or PHP) until Summer Session, so I don’t know if it’s best to plan to be a Web Developer. But what I do best is be creative. To be creative, it probably isn’t fully necessary, but certainly helps — to recall my own identity. Even if I’m one of the only people to fully understand it.

Got to go.

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