With every choice and action, a timeline of one's life is drawn forward.
And for every possible choice and action that one could make but doesn't, another possible world; another possible self; another possible timeline unfolds in a separate direction that one can never know.
There are nearly an infinite number of ways for how Frank's life could have gone.
Many of which never went at all.
But one in particular went like this.
Frank worked basically his whole life in pursuit of one thing.
What started as just a youthful attraction, mostly nothing more than a seed of innocent curiosity and seeking of identity, grew more and more with time into the central focus of his life.
In general, very few youthful interests remain steady and properly held together through the storm of aging into adulthood.
But for Frank, painting did.
Born with a congenital limb length discrepancy, as a child, Frank's left leg was about 2 and a half inches longer than his right, more or less condemning him to a lifelong limp that would only really improve following several surgeries once he was older.
