Frankly my dear, I do give a damn

I have decided to revert to my basic instincts and make an honest woman of myself. Why hide when nobody bothers to look for me? Therefore, I might as well reveal my identity and get over myself.

But before any of that, I must write about an opportunity that has recently presented itself. An opportunity to speak my mind (within parameters set by circumstance) for a larger audience. I have a few hours to do this and I must try my best, being the naive and honest woman that I am. And I am frightened though it will probably go unnoticed.

But what am I whining about anyway? Most of the things I do without a thought are always noticed. It’s just the things I care about that frighten me the most. Typical. But then again, who cares?

As an artist I am accustomed to reveal my “innermost thoughts” to large (yeah right) groups of people. So why am I so afraid to write? I am comfortable with writing though I am painfully aware that I am not Nabakov or even Stephen King (who I desperately adore). But here I am, procrastinating with just a few hours to the deadline. I am to write about what I know and what I have lived with for years and still I am cowering with terror. I should just get to it, shouldn’t I?

But as George Mcfly would say, “I don’t think I could take that kind of rejection.” That pretty much says it all.

So, maybe I should consider what I have to write about: the first gallery show of my students (the first I have successfully gotten through art school) and boy, I know them inside out. I don’t just know what I’ve seen, but also what I haven’t seen. How can it be so difficult to write about what I know?

Their honesty breaks my heart. Their innocence breaks my heart some more. In a few years, they’ll get sly and twisted and start to figure out how to fool the world. They’ll learn how to be confident and get airs. But for now, they are sweet and naive and they work hard to make what they want. And I put up yet another show, so I can’t really bitch it out. And it’s actually quite good. Sigh.

This is going to be harder than I thought.

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