In spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing because only you can handle your life. A moment I felt idle, and all I could think of is my pencil, drawing sheet, eraser, and my set-square.
The pencil is in your hand, so the ball is in your court. What have you got inside that heart of yours, show your talent to the world, show your creativity, and give it your best shot. Surely, their is always something in that place you thing you can only see the vanishing point.
That my life, my work, and work in progress.