I Am Not A Brand.

I just updated my website.

My heart pounding, I hit “publish.” Alive and unsure. (But mostly really, really sure, and alive.)

And I’m not kidding. The second I hit “publish” the doorbell rang. My doorbell never rings. Even the UPS guy just opens the door. It’s that kind of house here.

So I immediately think it’s someone trying to sell something.

But when I open the door it’s a friend of my Dads.

 

“Good morning,” he says. “I brought him this,” he tells me and hands out a stack of papers.

“Do you want me to go get my Dad?” I ask.

“No. I’m in a hurry. I just wanted to drop this off.”

I take the packet of paper.

“I hear you are doing really great things with your art, ” he says.

My eyes still ache from all the crying I did this morning. I say nothing. I smile.

“That’s important you know,” he tells me. “What you’re doing is important.”

 

When I close the door behind me and look at what I’m holding, the words on the cover punch me right in the guts.

 

“One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.” -Helen Keller

 

Also, yesterday I was visited by an owl, and a deer.

 

 

 

 

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