The need for funds to fund the lifestyle one requires- you know, gut-rot liquor, side trips to Hemet, cinderblocks, and so on- or SUV upgrades, braces, mortgage, tuition at UCLA- is a pressing one indeed, esp. as one becomes older. Now throw in  juggling a low-paying or no-paying creative endeavor-acting, filmmaking, blogging, Dominating, the list goes on, and it becomes a test of one's will, one's resolve. Somewhat like Crazy Jane, I look at the Young Dancers (many with heaps of talent) dancing with bohemian abandon a la Rent, laughing at the corporate world and all of its trappings with real joy, honesty, yea, even fearlessness(!) and admittedly feel abit of self-loathing. Why did I not take that path? Why do I want to throw this wine bottle at the Lexus rounding the bend?

But then I think of Paul Gauguin, the French artist. One day he just walked out of the bank, scribbled a note to wife and kids, and jumped on a freighter to Tahiti.

The rest is history.