legacy
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Yesterday, I felt drawn back into my digital archive—over 14,000 images spanning decades of making and becoming. As I began curating and compositing, I realized many of these works weren’t incomplete; they were simply waiting. Waiting for the right context, the right emotional season, the right impression. Waiting for now. Works in progress often stir
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There are no laurels for quiet repayment.No ceremonies for those who wrote checks instead of manifestos.No headlines for those who worked second jobs and turned down dreams. But they are there. The artists who couldn’t paint until the debt was gone.The caregivers who delayed their care.The teachers who stayed in their lane because the loan
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I spent over a decade immersed in higher education — ten years of rigorous academic pursuit, buoyed by fellowships, scholarships, and honors, but also burdened by substantial government-backed loans. I repaid them all. It took decades. It cost me opportunities in my chosen field. Yet I did so in good faith, believing that the investment