How one starts. And finishes. (fb)

The word “chutzpah” comes to mind. When a young child scrawls something in crayon, or splashes paper with colorful paint, and holds it up high and close to our face, we indulge them: “beautiful!” we say. “I love it!” A child is the center of their world, and we expect that. But an adult? Every now and again, I feel so shamefully full of chutzpah to think anyone else might care about the art I make. The squirrels move in, and self-doubt is large. Yet here I am: making and sharing, believing there’s something there at my hand. (“Look! See!”) To draw takes such a paradoxical blend of utter faith in yourself and utter humility. (Of course what helps is that bigger truth that it’s less that I’m making and more that I’m channeling, at least to the extent I can keep ego at bay.) #week1 (fb)