For several weeks now, I have been reflecting on my life as an artist. I suppose it is an accumulative reaction to a series of the latest trials. But if I am really authentic, I have been investigating this curious path since the inception. The unorthodox direction of an artist is notorious for its own particular set of problems as interpreted by the “starving artist.” The history of art is pierced with the forlorn lives of outstanding artists who never sold a single piece of art until after they were extinct. In my heart, I believe so much of this tendency resulted from the masses not discerning the called course of artists.