the Red Heart

I am going to have to start editing this site. (I hear a few distant cheers from NYC and Arizona as I write this sentence.) See, I have always harbored a certain, sneaky joy in not editing my work. In college I made it to my junior year before it started to catch up with me. That probably isn't too impressive though, seeing how I received a degree from a state university.

Then,as an art student, I got used to the group critique. Something I found a perverse thrill in. I become dependent on someone else editing my work. Someone else finding my faults. I guess I like it when people take a red pen to my stuff, my soul.

I didn't start writing until about 5 years ago. I took it up because images were no longer capable of capturing exactly what I was trying to express. This launched a time spent as a NOISE darling.I was irreverent and a general hazard. Like a lop eared bunny too dumb to resist the call to speak her opinion. My editor was kind, and polished my brassy bunny ears up like a show tune. It was almost like I knew what I was doing.

But I admit to a revelation,I fly by the seat of my pants, and don't get too
involved in my work, I can try to convince myself that I am a natural genius. a general contractor of skill. A jack of all trades, who can do just about anything she has to.

But that isn't good enough is it?