The Voices in My Head

I have a piece of artwork at Dreams in their art show. Last night the artists talked about their works. As I listened to others talk, I felt totally out of my league. They talked about symbolism and the techniques that they used. They referred to artists that they admired. I wanted to tuck my tail and hide under my cape. How can I compete against these passionate people whose skills and natural talents ooze from their very being?

What would I say when it was my turn? My throat got dried, I coughed. Damn, it is the fingers that talk here. I hear Soj; she asked a question. “Yes,” I replied. “I took the picture to the right. I used an older version of Photoshop to come up with the line drawing to the left. I have no idea what I did to get it, but stopped when I got the effect.”

It was easier from then on. I no longer worried about capabilities but shared a little of my experience in Israel and the archeological dig. I talked about the subject of the piece, the Cardo in the Jewish Quarter of Old Jerusalem.

I no longer felt in competition with the others. Instead, it was a moment of sharing my world. I realized that they had done the same, but in their own way.