Or did it find me? It's hard to say.
I was working an office job, it paid well and a learned a lot but it wasn't a passion of mine. In my free time from work I found myself lacking in inspiration, it was difficult for me to create anything at all. As a child I was consistently sitting with some sort of creation in the works. Drawing, painting, singing, cooking, or something of the sort every single day. I missed being creative and working with my hands, and I realized I didn't even know when it really stopped. Computer and paper work 40+ hours a week was simply torturing my soul in and out of the workplace.
My boss at that time, though, was an amazing man. His name was Oliver, and he migrated from India to the states at just 22 years old, all on his own. At 60 something, he still had an accent so thick that most of my team members had trouble understanding him during large meetings. We had a special connection and quickly became friends. As I would go bother him during slow work hours, I was able to quickly learn his enunciations and way of speaking English. He would glow when asked to talk about his home and the culture in India. He could go on and on about how the weddings and celebrations were just spectacular, all the colorful fabrics and people. His parents were still living in that home town he grew up in, and he would go visit every few years and reminisce.
I am first + foremost, a creative. To build + organize a design, an idea, or a goal + see it actually materialize is something hard to describe. I will always cherish + cultivate my ability to do this.