A change is as good as a rest, they say. 

A couple of years ago I started to really take an interest in comic book colouring. I'd played around a few times before, but it wasn't until spring 2000 that I really started to take it seriously, as a possible avenue to employment. I started colouring everything I could lay my hands on - black and white comic art, animation cels, random scribblings from the net - if it was line art, I would colour it.

I started gaining skills which I never thought I'd be able to master. I started developing my own style. I planned on submitting work to comic book companies. This was what I wanted to do - I wanted to colour comic books for a living - I really enjoyed colouring, and could think of no better way of spending the rest of my working life.

Then, abruptly, I stopped. A job was available at a local software house, testing games software. Not the most amazing job in the world, but it was a foot in the door to the gaming industry, a shining light welcoming me towards the career I had dreamed of as a kid. So I stopped colouring and went for the job. Got it.

Got in? not likely.

I am still working that job right now. Numerous applications for more creative roles within the company have failed. The games I'm testing are tedious. I get treated with a universal lack of respect. In short, I hate my job, and I'm not getting anywhere.

So last week, I sat down and thought long and hard about what I was going to do to rememdy my current situation. The answer of course was staring me in the face. I found some black and white comic book artwork, and set about colouring it. As I was working on that piece, I lost all track of time. I was enclosed in a bubble of me-space, completely oblivious to everything happening around me. For five whole hours, there was nothing in the world save me and my work.

It was one of the most fantastic experiences of my life. I had not coloured a piece for at least a year. I had not even thought about it. And then I colour one piece and I'm ready to colour the world again. My time in the office goes incredibly slowly, waiting to get out so I can colour some more. I realise now that colouring is what I really do desire to do, deep down.

The problem I have now is this: I need to work to pay the bills. I need to colour to improve my skills. Time spent at work is time not spent colouring. Time spent at work is also time spent having my soul destroyed, so that when I do get the chance to do some colouring, the temptation to just crawl into bed and sleep is overwhelming. But as I've advised in the past, you want something, you have to fight for it. 

My mind is made up now. As soon as I can, I will submit my work to comic book companies. And I won't stop until I have a job.

Most of my columns have had an underlying message. Occasionally that message is spelled out. This column is a lot more personal than the previous ones, but the message is still there. We all come into this life with a purpose. Some people find their purpose straight away, some people never do. Some people think they have found their purpose when they have not. I'm not saying that once you discover this purpose everything will be cool and you can kick back and relax. The purpose is a path like any other, but it's a patch specifically designed for your feet.

The important thing is to listen to what you feel inside. Don't take other people's suggestions as fact. YOU are in control, and ONLY YOU. Just remember that until you're 100% sure what your purpose is, it may well help to try out the alternatives, just in case. It seems to be working for me.