I was watching this young woman today, she must have been in her early twenties, maybe even younger, folding sheets at the service laundry and she had this look on her face, like she was miles away, probably thinking about everything but the pile of damp towels in front of her. And it just hit me like a ton of bricks, the smell of the detergent, the hum of the machines, it all just brought me right back to when I was her age, doing the exact same thing, thousands of miles away. Is that weird? To see yourself in someone else like that, even though everything's different now. I mean, here I am, still in a city, but a different one, a much bigger one, and she's probably just arrived, just starting out, doing what she has to do. And that’s the thing, isn't it? What you *have* to do. I remember sending money home, every single penny I could spare, sometimes more than I could spare, to my parents, to my brothers and sisters. For years. I mean, it was just expected. And I didn't question it then, not really. It was just life. But now, looking back, I think about all the things I wanted to do, really wanted to do. I wanted to go to art school, you know? I used to sketch all the time, just little things, but I loved it. And I wanted to travel, really travel, not just move for work. I just wanted to see the world, paint the world. And it all just... faded. Poof. Gone. Because survival. Because family. And I don't regret it, not really. They needed me. I helped them. My family is doing well now, you know? They’re comfortable. My nieces and nephews, they have opportunities I never even dreamed of. So it worked. It paid off. But sometimes, when I'm walking through the galleries downtown and I see a painting that just HITS me, or when I see some young person with their sketchbook on the subway, I just get this pang. This really sharp, almost physical ache. Did I trade my whole self for something that wasn’t even mine? Does everyone feel this at my age? Like you're just looking back at a road you took but you don't even recognize the person who started on it anymore. And now what? I just keep going? What do you do with all that... what if.