The Letter, Thomas Wilmer Dewing 1851–1938
The Letter, Thomas Wilmer Dewing (1851–1938)

I sit down to the antique secretary desk in my blush silk evening gown and assume a reflective pose. This is how the creative process begins. Or how I would like it to begin. But actually, instead of a desk, I’m curled up on a pull-out couch, and instead of a gown, I’m in the second pair of sweatpants that I’ve worn today. This is how my blog begins.

The way the woman in the painting stares forlornly at the blank page in front of her is how I have been staring at my computer screen the past few weeks. I’ve been preparing for a lot of big changes: new city, new language, new chapter of my “career”. Several times a day, a crushing feeling washes over me, and I descend into a horizontal Netflix-prone position on the couch. I’ve got a lot to do but I don’t know where to start. First thing’s first: it’s time to throw myself into the internet.

I’m not completely sure what will end up here. A little bit about what I’m doing, what I’m working on, what I’m reading, what I’m learning about. I won’t do any big introductions or make any promises. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I can keep up with it. Do I sound apprehensive? I’m working on that. I’ve got Bette Midler live albums to help me with that.

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