This is Michelle, and today is her birthday. She has a contagious smile and I swear, more teeth than the average person.
It’s really something when I stop to think about everything we’ve done, and everywhere we’ve been together. From my first drink, to my first stamp in my passport. Ten years is a long time when you’re young.
She’s seen me at my best, and helped pick me up at my worst. Through and through, one of my truest friends. I’ll know this one till the day I die.
My good friend Drew, and about a year ago, maybe less, mailed me a book he thought I should read. I’m not much a reader, but his opinion is one of the few I tend to consider. The book was Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. I finished it a few weeks ago, and since the first page, I’ve thought about it daily. Couldn’t have read it at a more appropriate time. I’ve been in a such a fog. More and more, I watch my actions contradict my thoughts. But the ideas in this book have brought some clarity to me. It has reminded me of the values I’ve already known, and more importantly, believed, but have not practiced.
Countlessly, I have surrendered my time to causes I believed to be less important than my own, for nothing in return. I’ve been taught that this is virtue, to give without receiving. I can say with honesty that I have never felt the “goodness” in these means of trade. Only a feeling of guilt for not enjoying it, as I am supposed to. Ayn Rand has reminded me that value is traded for value, and nothing less.
I could quote some of the writing that resonates with me, but to truly communicate what I took away, I think a question is best. Something that will likely cross my mind, throughout the expanse of my life and help me navigate it. The question being, what would Dagny Taggart do?
Hasn’t been an entirely unproductive hiatus. Things are always in motion.
Years ago, Six Foot Giraffe started out as my digital portfolio. Where I kept student, professional, and personal work, all under the same roof. But overtime, these humble doodles I call my personal work, outgrew my other efforts. At least by my own standards. After several years of living a homeless life, I’ve built a new home for my lost commercial work to belong.
Sought a few quotes on having it built for me, but my old friend Nick Hand, I believe without him even knowing it, inspired me to do it myself. Doesn’t look like much, but I worked very hard for it. And I am happy.
I’m in fourth grade, its Valentines Day, and I got hold of some Spider-Man branded Valentines cards. Rules are, you hand them out to everyone, no one is left out. My fourth grade self made damn sure that everyone got the same exact, boring, generic, platonic card from me. Everyone except my fourth grade crush of course. Samantha something. Her card was Doctor Octopus, a six-armed Spider-Man villain, shouting “I can’t wait to get my arms around you!” A clear as day declaration of my feelings, all on the table.
One by one, she went through her cards and I waited for her reaction across the classroom. Finally, she held and read mine, looked to me, and called out… “EWWWWWWW KYLE!?”
My fourth grade self was crushed, never forget it.