When up North during my stint in grad school, I didn't always feel like I was a part of the contemporary art world. I Romanticized my Outsider art heritage. But now that I have returned back South I no longer feel a part of that tradition. My spirit has become transmogrified in the fire of criticality. Grad school has changed me. It is no longer enough for me to celebrate beauty on its own terms, or be content with simple, but pure workings of catharsis. Now I have to change the world. One man against the world? In the war against the world, always bet the world. I wish I could find like minds and form a new art movement. It would be less lonely and the path less intimidating. But artists are solitary creatures. One man . . . against the world! A Quixotic mission if I ever saw one.