Confessions

As I sit here, hands poised over the keys, reaching out to you, my friends in cyber-space, something weighs on my mind that I think you must know about me.

I’m not into this computer thing.

Yep. I said it. On my blog. The irony is clear to me. But it’s true. It’s just not my thing.

My husband has online calendars that he refers me to and reminders set-up on his phone for different events, but those things just will not jive with my brain. Words on a screen- be they reminders, events, meetings, birthdays, etc. just pass through my head like smoke leaving me feeling a little lost and confused (picture the tilted head and furrowed brow of a quizzical golden retriever) and unsure of how I could be this disorganized with so many organizational tools at my virtual fingertips. (And how I could have forgotten your birthday AGAIN despite the fact that I found you the perfect gift 4 months ago).

But give me a pen and paper and aaaah… life makes a little more sense. Perhaps my ego is in the way of progress (“If I did not create it with my own two hands then it does not exist!”) or perhaps it’s my artist brain. Visual artists are, at the core, manual workers. Our brains and hands must work together.

So this post was first written out by hand. That way I know you’ll see it. Because that way I know it’s real.

My apologies and thanks to the trees for supporting my antiquated paper habit. I promise to recycle the evidence.

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