We tear ourselves inside out for something the world may love, then base our worth on that.

On to the Next Dream is so outlandish. I call it absurdist fiction, because the story is utter hyperbole. The story builds to such an exaggerated and ridiculous pitch that there's no way it can be true - and yet, because it's based on the current cultural climate, it feels as if it is.

On to the Next Dream became about much more than me facing a challenging situation it became about how all of us feel when we're thrust unexpectedly into change. It's about how we all hold onto personalized visions of our lives, our city, and our culture, and what we do when reality forces us to confront the impermanence of those visions.

In hard times, beauty can seem frivolous - but take it away, and all you're left with is hard times.