I’m Maureen Painted Green. No, my name isn’t really Maureen. No, I’m not going to tell you what it really is, because this is the internet, and apparently, there are scary people out there. I’m a music major – it’s a labor of love. To keep me sane, I collect stories. I write habitually. I write the way I breathe, though without the clichéd caveat of “because if I didn’t, I would die”. I’m a cynic, I’m a pragmatist, I’m a realist; I’m a scientist. I’m an artist, a thinker, a daughter, a lover, a teacher, and a student. I drink whole pots of coffee at a time. I’m very picky about my pens and pencils. I bite my nails, and I never empty the garbage. I’ve been loved, I’ve been in love. I’ve had my heart broken and I know I’ve broken a few hearts too. I could subsist for years on Chinese takeout. It’s appalling how little I sleep. I never remember to call my mother. I’m overwhelmingly human.

I've learned. I know that some things aren't up to me. I know that the opinion of others only goes so far, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel. I've learned that everyone has a story just as complicated and compelling as mine. I've learned that if you push the world hard enough, it will move, but so slowly that you won't notice for a very long time, until one day you look down to find that the ground beneath your feet looks very different from the ground you started on. I've learned to ask for what I want.

And I believe, more than anything, in the power of love to save us, to shape us to change us. And after love, I believe most in the power of words – spoken, written, dreamed, remembered. I believe in stories, passed down and embroidered, shared and saved. I believe that where we’ve been and who we’ve loved make us who we are, and that…

That, to me, is art (is life, is art).

That’s what gives the journey meaning.