The Return...Where from here?

I am posting this Blog, because of a most recent verbal transaction on Facebook. To my Friend I responded to my absence in social gatherings, so to speak. So, I wrote a bit...well, a letter, hell, almost my Life's history, to her this morning. I thought afterwards I haven't written much in my Blog as of late and, well, time to catchup! For the moment I will "copy and paste" what I wrote to my friend. I will get back here, soon!.....
(her last comment in a response as to my most recent decision for not drinking...an OWI and 6 hours in the "slammer" opened my eyes)...
"My friend...you amaze me...your talents...your innerself. You're an increadible person. You need not drink to intrigue me or interest me. I enjoy knowing you!"
...and my story for the decision I made as follows:
It was difficult trying to fulfill my dreams as an Artist in a working-class family. Thus, I was to pay for my own education, "room and board were available" at home while I laboured in factories to save . My first experience in a University was, without a doubt, hard. But, I excelled all my Art classes. One of my professors (the toughest as well) taught in the style of the "Old Masters". Those classes were most intense, but were ground rules to graduate into other forms and media of Art. I learned many styles, but appreciated Life Painting and Drawing, because it entailed more than "rendering and execution", it proved whether an Artist could "see". Hands are but the "tools", the "eyes" are the image and soul to Art.
That Professor, it seemed, worked hardest on me! One afternoon as he tore up a drawing I had spent HOURS on, I became so enraged I was ready to walk away, forever. He looked at me making sure the entire classroom could hear (his exact words I still remember and the look upon his face), "Someday, You will be better than the "average" Artist" and walked away.
I never addressed myself as an Artist until years later. I needed to learn more! Finally, after apprenticing under many others for several years I had my "last" experience which granted me the title, Artist. She was a renowned Watercolourist and Artist in Paris, New York and Chicago. How she came to Dowagiac and taught classes at SMC was beyond me! But she "took me under her wing" and placed all Emphasis on my growth. Months of diligent work. It was the most taxing, frustrating and confusing period of my career. She came to me one day and said, "I want you to bring in three large pieces of illustration board." Next day I showed up for class (I was never allowed to work alongside my classmates, I was her Pupil, her Apprentice). She instructed me to take 2 of the boards and cut smaller pieces from them and to leave one board intact. For 1 week I painted almost a 100 small paintings until she said, "Now, take the large board and paint something." I asked, "What?" She said, "It's inside you, find it." I stared for 3 days at that board until my hand picked up the brush and touched the board. Within one hour I stepped back, looked and "tried so hard to understand what had just happened".
She came up to me, looked at my painting, looked at me (expressionless), handed me her "prized watercolour brush" and said, "My work is done. There is nothing more I can teach you" and walked away. I stood dumbfounded while my classmates applauded. Almost 5 years later would I "allow myself the title of Artist".
The "heartbreak" in my life were the many opportunities handed to me, yet unable to afford them. My Parents, regardless, still refused to support me (my Mother tried, seeing my future as viable, but my Father didn't want to for fear of his friends asking if I were "gay" of all things!!). All Scholarships went to minorities (Affirmative Action).
I was accepted into; Kendall School of Design, the Chicago Art Institute, the University of Chicago, the New School of Art, Parsons School of Art, Bloomington Art School, Freiburg University in Germany...and many others. So, disappointed and pissed off, I rebelled. I did my Art, but when it was completed I DESTROYED it, or if I felt generous, I gave it to someone. The majority of it was in my "Perofrmance Art" shows. When done, I would destroy it before everyone's eyes! Wrong thing to do! People were outraged! The few art leagues and associations I belonged to ostracised me, banned me from shows. Of course, my paintings and drawings of Nudes didn't "fly well" with the "prim and proper" ideals of the "Tard's"!
I found drugs, alcohol had been there for awhile, but never a close friend. Years of drifting between Art and girfriends I mistakenly got a girlfriend pregnant. We had kids, got married and that was the end of an Era.
Alcohol replaced Art..."hmm,..AA. Alcohol n Art! :)
And here I am, playing "catchup". Who I am today, right now, is the remant of what "Once was". I am that Artist struggling to regain the Title I had worked so hard for!
Art is just not a piece of paper, a canvas, a sculpting. It is a Soul, personified. Each time I create a piece, "my Soul" is embedded into a once dormant idea, or object. Maybe You can understand my "reluctance" to "SELL" it. I'd rather "GIVE IT AWAY".
And now I sit alone as I did decades ago ready to begin what I started then. My friends have abandoned me, not I abandoning them.
Besides, as I have always said, "We come into this world alone and leave it the same way."