I was never what you might call an “artsy” kid.
I was a decent-enough jock in a suburban town, in the days before the Internet.
Sports were all we had.
I would have been fine, socially, if my younger brother hadn’t been better looking, more popular, and a better athlete than I was.
Rather than thinking myself well-adjusted, I spent much of my youth jealous of him. Brooding. The fact that we didn’t get along only exacerbated my sense of ennui. Eventually, my artistic soul outed itself.
Because the more I get to know myself, the more I realize something inside …read more
Via: A Photo Editor