Poetry hit me like Miley Cyrus wielding a sledgehammer. Previously, I had thought poets only wrote about roses or the glory of the communist state. But it turned out to be an incredibly flexible medium. I wrote aggressive poetry about my dog, sexy poetry about chips, and horrifying poetry about being asked to hold a newborn baby. I performed in bars, libraries, the comedy club and at council events. I went everywhere with a pen and paper and often found it difficult to sleep. I realized that if I didn’t fully commit, I would always wonder where a creative career may have taken me. So I cut the avo on toast, gave up the OE, and spent six months squirreling away every spare dollar to launch my new career.