Many consider me an enterpreneur, although I do not usually pursue a task with an explicit objective in mind. Typically, I would define an objective after I have founded and established a project. This might have to do with how I seem to have an inordinate number of interests, and an unusual background with skills in disciplines traditionally considered mutually exclusive. I often find myself driven to pursue a project out of obsession, in the exploration of a curiosity. Although I do not actively portray myself as a novelist, I believe that it is the same source of imagination that evolves my novels that propel my projects forward into what many consider universal enterprises.

Then again, I have to admit that the current enterprises I am focusing on are perhaps fatally limited, and because of my youth and varied background, I may not be the best for it. But, I pursue them with the candid ardor of an artist, in the traditional sense, in that I expend a significant amount of my life and belief to each of my main projects. Thus far, my diverse background and my dedication have created seemingly enterprise-sized projects that are essentially driven by and (still) created by (only) a single person.

The flagship case study I would like to cite is that of the SL Shakespeare Company—from the perspective of actual credit. This is not actually something I spend much time thinking about, and I am writing this to quench the curiosity of peers who have wondered how I managed to create something out of nothing. I was lucky enough to have gone through a very rigorous curriculum in high school that exposed me to half a dozen Shakespearean plays, as well as many other formidable works of literature. I was also a teenager enough that I would also quickly become adept in digital technologies, primarily because they were deemed taboo by my parents, who feared computers. While what I have learned of rhetoric and analysis in high school helped me in my majors in college, college was a test of my ability to discipline myself into becoming adept at something that I—in my high school, where to be good at math, one had to literally be a math genius—was never a star at. Though the tools I had mastered in high school would propel several versions forward by the time I returned to them, I found it natural to use them, and I quickly created entire virtual cities and islands out of ideas and my hands. Of note, for the SL Shakespeare Company, I built historic theatres, envisioned plays, its imagery in both playbills and wardrobe, as well as in scenic design and interpretation, and various programmatic scripts to both optimize and fill-in needed components of the endeavor—with my own two hands. That is, because I started from nothing, with no external funding other than my passion, I had to be the one who did the nitty gritty of assembling the technicals to make it happen. In other projects of this scope, the person with the idea and vision is the one who commands others to do the actual tasks for them; but, here, I am both that and doing the work of what should essentially require a team of artists and technicians to do. I believe that it is my early exposure to digital mediums that made these tasks seem effortless to me. Nowadays, despite my social handicap, I am considered to be a great administrator instead of an artist—people naturally assume that I had to control and guide teams of people to create what I've created—when, all this time, I've been using the crutch of my productive creativity to create all that. Now that I have established a new industry of virtual theatre, I have to attempt to connect traditional merits of the field with this nascent virtual worlds implementation. My precocious disposition to literature helped me to continue evolving the endeavor into its current stage—and, I hope, beyond, into something as formidable as the Royal Shakespeare Company.

Prior to this, I had built several islands on Second Life. The one I spent the bulk of my time on was the one I would eventually envision for the purpose of creating an formidable literary & arts organization in virtual worlds. Again, in the process of creating it, my focus would usually be on the actual creation of the moment—such as the geometric skyscraper I would be building at the time, or a prim-efficient architecture for a modern art gallery. At various steps of the process, I am involved as the layman who rolls down the virtual concrete foundation, the architect, the mason who assembles virtual stones (prims) to create buildings, the virtual painter who turns flat-texture walls into photorealistic facades, the decorations-maker who adds quintessential details on top of things, the technician who writes programs to create and maintain the functionality in the backend, and the dollmaker, who paints realism into the avatar bodies of the world's inhabitants—and also the CEO, who attempts to meld reason and purpose and direction to the great expanse that I have somehow created.

I might be considered an enterpreneur in that I am the one who makes sense of the things I have created, and shape them from a holistic perspective. But, I believe it is all possible because I am really an artist, capable of expending my life in the pursuit of the material representation of the extent of my creativity—and, through toil and troubles, with my own two hands to make it possible.