Yes, it's me.
I am so sorry.
Because I've been working you like mad:
...Demanding that you learn lines and dance steps and songs with little to no time.
...Insisting that you provide something clever to this blog.
...Asking you to knock out multiple chapters and edit and polish on point because I have paid for your spot at DFW WriCon.
...Begging you to fill up the Art journal with something meaningful or pretty.
I've been so frustrated with you when you have not been able to sketch anything or crank out a decent chapter or you overlook simple grammatical errors or get sloppy with the dancing or sing too flat or too sharp or just plain off key...
I could not understand why all this was happening.
I understand now.
You were hungry...
I forgot how much you loved when I fed you in Las Vegas and when I fed you again in Detroit.
You see, all that time I thought I was feeding me when it was you who needed it more.
So those two Strawberry Margaritas my sister bought for me in Newark--the ones I kept refusing yet was getting nudged by something telling me to go for it...
|BEST. 'RITA. EVER!!!|
And when Johnny asked if I wanted to come along with him and James to see this...
|Something WONDERFULLY Rotten in New York City!|
That was you nudging me to go because your well was dry.
|Oh The Humanity!|
I wasn't feeling all that great, but you were in your element! You weren't about to let me complain about my tired feet and aching tummy. You just pushed me right out of the experience because this wasn't about me. It was about you and what you need.
And it payed off because you gave a pretty good performance the following day. I don't tell you that often do I?
I'm sorry for that.
And I don't feed you enough and I am so sorry.
Because it is you and your hard work that is paying bills and allowing me to treat my family and friends and myself.
I need you and you know that. So you carry on even when I ignore you or fuss at you. But you rely on me to keep you fed and motivated and pushing forward.
So today I make a promise to feed you frequently and well.
I ain't promising too many more margaritas! But I do promise to allow my friends and family to bless you with whatever fills you up.
I promise to take you to more shows.
I promise to take you to the book store more often because I know how much you love that smell!
I promise to take you to the art museum more often, because I know how much you love that feeling.
I will spend my last two dollars on you because I know you have the ability to quadruple that amount.
It's what you were born to do.
I love you sweet Artist
I promise to never stop telling you that.
Love, Your faithful servant.