Hi, my name is Steph and I’m a very small, frustrated scientist.
I was a writer and an artist up until I decided those career paths wouldn’t make any money. And by decided, I mean told by everyone I knew and loved. Don’t get me wrong – I love science. I far prefer microbes over people (less organelles, less problems). But since becoming a semi-fully-functioning real-world adult, I’ve felt my artistic side slipping through the cracks. Poems don’t flow like they used to, stories don’t invade my brain in the middle of the day, my musical hobbies didn’t make me happy anymore – I started feeling like I’d lost myself.
It’s easy to do that after you graduate; you’re working every day and you’re tired and suddenly you have to “make time” for the things you love. Then, as if in some twisted black-hole universe, your hobbies become chores. And just like that, down the toilet your talents go. But I’m convinced that they aren’t impossible to get back and that no matter how old your dog is, he can always learn new tricks. And he’s always a puppy. Every dog is a puppy.
So, this is my journey on finding the inner-artist that I gave up on.
And peanuts. I like drawing unhappy peanuts.