Every minute, every new movement of the brush is a disturbing presence; every bar that doesn't follow the explicit path that I dictated slithers through, tightening its pressure and grip around my neck. I am at the mercy of the canvas I once marveled at. And yet, I truly feel alive, obsessing over every second to attempt to clench my insatiable thirst for overcoming overwhelming adversity… a path for my passion to take claim. Few share this passion for the market, for they only abide by ...