Writing honestly is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. I’ve been an artist since I was 12 or 13. I was mostly self taught until high school and then…only encouraged by teachers and discouraged by parents. My neighbor Mrs Brooks helped me find my creative energy, at the time mosaics were in and I was good. But taking classes in my 30’s and graduation from Otis/Parsons changed everything, except my continual self doubt and beating myself up for my parents saying you’re not good enough. Oh yes, I’m an excellent painter. Just had a text from someone I don’t know. Apparently I gave him a painting and he loves it, has it hanging in his bedroom. I’ve painted 100s of works, and sold maybe 3. I’ve given most of them away like orphan children I don’t want in the house. No kids, no pets, just drawing supplies and the computer. And my ever inventive imagination.
So…once again I’m overcome with the fear of rejection, you won’t like what I write. Some will, some won’t. I’m not the household Robert Frost everyone learns in high school poet. I’m basic a gay poet and historian for certain events, like Stonewall and the beginning of AIDS. I’ve been careful to keep my writing of Facebook, the worst place to have anyone’s work judged. My friends don’t read me, but that’s ok. People out there are! I’m excited to receive more thoughts, comments, good or bad. Good makes me happy, but BAD makes me think and grow. I have a big trash bag full of personal rejects. I’m my own best and worst critic. But, with practice I will be an excellent writer and appreciate all who are following.