Continued from March 3, 2010 post.
June 10, 2004
Before The Artist Way, when my husband asked me what I was doing. I’d lie.
“Just trying to figure out what we’re going to have for supper,” I said.
After The Artist Way, I acknowledged that I was a creative being. I decided to admit to daydreaming.
“What are you doing?” my husband asked.
“Just daydreaming.” My husband stared at me with a shocked look on his face.
“Don’t act so shocked. You daydream, too. When I ask you what you’re doing, you always answer nothing. You’re daydreaming.”
I decided he must have thought that daydreaming was punishable by death, too.
It took a lot of courage but after writing for three years, I approached my father.
“Dad, I was just thinking, maybe but quite possibly, I think that I might have a creative personality.” I waited for the bomb to drop and strong profanity to fall from my father’s lips.
“I could have told you that,” my father said. “I’ve known this since you were little.”
I bit my lip. And I wondered why he never told me.