The road not taken.

Refugee camps; Marine biology; Massage therapists; Emotional state; Maritime pilots

In many ways my adult life has been an attempt to transmute my ambition of making socially conscious hip hop into a career that is as close to it as possible, but that doesn't elicit the cynical groans you hear after the cut-off age of 25 when you answer, "What do you do?" Hip hop also helped me as a voiceover artist, a side career I now supplement my income with. To be fair, I would have been a singer in this life, but for one small problem: after an all-too-brief career as a boy soprano in the school choir, my voice broke early and any subsequent attempt at song on my part inspired even the sternest of the nuns at Our Lady's Catholic Comprehensive to descend into sub-teenage giggling fits. I revelled in the symbolism and the mysteries: transubstantiation Christ magically embodied, after a murmured prayer, in a wafer ingested by the congregation at mass - and resurrection - the mangled, naked, dead and bloodied body of Jesus the man transfigured into a radiantly whole, beautiful, muscular, godlike Christ, wrapped only in a flowing loincloth and headed directly for his heavenly father. [Extracted from the article]