Over the past few days, I have feeling unsettled. I am feeling stirrings... urges. Real yearnings.

To create.

To be creative.

Artistic.

Very surreal, this is.

For so many years, I have been behind the glass, pressing my nose to it, staring at what was no longer for me, always craving it and yet it was always unattainable.

Now, I can touch it, taste it.

I have been inspired.

Joy. Rapture.

Fear.

What if I fail? What if I am not good enough?

Suddenly as I sit here... in my head I hear a familiar voice from a long ago dream says, "Our young do not spring from the womb with the ability to run. They must first learn to roll over, to push themselves up, to crawl, to pull themselves up, to stand, and then to take their first step. They fall often before learning to run. Falling is not failure. It is only by falling that they learns to catch themselves.

Just as your son will become frustrated often and fall many times on his journey to learning to run, he will also pick himself back up and start again.

You will stumble. You will fall. You will learn. You will pick yourself up and begin again.

Baby steps, Daughter."


The Muses, they call.