The arrogance of youth and male pattern baldness.

Oh shit. I cant tell the story of how I became a graphic designer without telling you about Pete. Pete was the son of a well off farmer from DeMotte, Indiana. DeMotte was once in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the most churches per capita, per square mile. Pete was another rotten spoiled kid. Painted his bedroom black when he was 21. Always drove his car 120mph. Last I heard he was married, never showered, had black teeth and joined a motorcycle gang. I enjoyed his craziness for a time. We worked together at Applebees. Soon we formed a band. Found a singer and bass player. Nonetheless was born. We played out a lot and because we were all so broke I took on the job of making fliers. Soon after I started working for the construction company and had many hours and two photocopiers to experiment with. Woodcuts became the main way of mass producing color posters. It was so much cheaper than kinkos. I pirated photoshop and learned it without any help. After a while I was designing album covers for friends' bands for cigarettes and scotch. One afternoon while designing the insert for Lights Over Bridgeport I had a realization that I LOVED doing this. Maybe I could pursue a career in graphic arts. Never before had I thought that a possibility. Never in my growing up was the idea of a JOB in the arts a tangible profession. We worked in the mills. In restaurants. In the mall. Forever. No one went off to become successful in advertising. No one went off to be in touring rock bands. No one opened restaurants. Everyone I grew up around loitered in the courtyard of banality. Too scared or too tied down to open any of the doors. So, as excited as someone that fell overboard is to find a plank of wood I found an art school to enroll in. I loved college. I wish I had figured all that out before I was 25. A goldfish will expand to the size of its environment if you keep feeding it. Thats how I felt at Columbia College Chicago. I fed off the camaraderie and competition. I excelled and kicked ass. I knew I was better at this than most. It fed my brain as much as my soul as much as my ego. I was in art school. In Chicago. I was smart and strong and could lift city buses off the ground with a properly placed and chosen font. Its been 5 years since I could not afford to go to school anymore. I thought about going back to UALR. They have a nice art program. David paid me a nice compliment the other day. He said that I dont need school. That I already got it. What else can they teach me.? Its arrogant for me to say something like that but less arrogant to agree with someone that says something like that to me.