An oppressive cloud of anxiety engulfed me, stirring up a clashing storm of distress and helplessness inside of me. But where to begin?Where? I wanted to scream.
I turned off the TV and left the kitchen, wanting to shed some of the emotional assault my body was experiencing. I paced the floor agitatedly, going back and forth between the living room and what looked like a bar area, restless, my mind not processing my surroundings, until the surface underneath my feet shifted to polished concrete. I looked up and, as if ice-cold water had been splashed to my face, I stopped, thunderstruck.
The space sprawling before me was an art sanctuary, something you could've found in a museum if it wasn't for the long paint-daubed table that sat from wall to wall on one side of the room. Pointed tools
