Next came my own expectations and family. I originally didn’t want to become an artist. After three years of college and nothing clicking I was stuck trying to make a decision that was meaningful to my future. School was a give in but what to study was another. I was expected to go to school, expected to go to college, expected to become educated for a career that would allow me to sustain myself once I leave the nest. I told myself I wouldn’t become an artist, it would only become a minor. It took me three years to convince myself I wanted to do art and teach to a community. Expectation was the embodiment of the confusion of what I wanted but, with the looming expectation of what I was supposed to become. Finding the path amongst the fog or to follow it blindly. My expectations were clouded. I knew what I wanted but I couldn’t see the end result or how to even get to where I wanted to be. All I could see was my ambition and my willingness to do what it takes to get where I thought I wished to be.