I am always so sure I have the thing that will sell.  And it never is.  There is a place in life where you have to abandoned what you love to do for something that will make you money.  It is a reality.  I can sit and paint old ladies til the cows come home but no one BUYS  and if you don't want to end up pouring coffee at Perkins-which is the next idea -then you must find that which will sell.  Its a weird hard line.  I have been thinking about it lately, how we design our lives according to some arbitrary outline that others have established.  School-college-job-marriage-kids -retirement-death.  And in between is this everlasting race to become at least profitable enough that we don't wake up with gut churning thoughts of lack.   And when one is different, or artistic, or-I can't think of the word-different?  sensitive-longing for more-it is a hard hard journey.  I see all the spring break pictures of Florida and Mexico and I am sick to my stomach that my choices have lead my family to a severe lack-but is it lack?   I guess if my wants are bigger than my pocketbook-it is.  Lots of thoughts to think on this