This is the year I stop hiding.
I write this note as my effort to unmask my struggle, a refusal to delay, a step into public clarity after years of living underground. I am not complaining or planning a heroic parade, but something in between: an effort to discover myself at an age that demands I know myself better than I did a decade ago.
There’s a flawed assumption that age alone grants wisdom. I believe clarity comes not from the passing of years, but from the lessons of failure and the courage to be consistently vulnerable.
This is my effort here.
Progress has always been the word that has defined my search for meaning. I believe everything is born to grow, to become better than it was yesterday.
My challenge was my mind’s relentless pursuit of perfection. Therefore I waited. My sketchbooks stayed a graveyard of half-implemented ideas and projects.
A year ago, a fellow Christian told me she saw a dream where i was surrounded by open, pen, cluttered, and unfinished books. She said whatever you have accumulated is ample; now share it. I have always felt that way. Her words reminded me of the concept of “spiritual obesity, “ a tendency to hoard knowledge or revelation, and failure to live out faith.