Now That I've Started I Don't Want to Stop

For me, writing is something akin to sex. In other words, the more I write, the more I want to write. It's not that I have anything earth shattering to relate. If I do have great thoughts, I'm totally unaware of it. I don't pretend, despite my academic background, to be a great writer, or to spell perfectly, or to be one to parse words. Blogging is much like painting was to me (yes, i was a professonal artist before I turned my back on that life and joined the academic world). With painting, I never knew what might emerge. I let the ideas flow and the paint do what it would. My mentor, who planned everything with exactitude was driven wild by my emotional approach to art. Face it: I'm more emotional than cerebral. That's what makes me tick and I can't do a hell of a lot to change that nor do I particularly want to change this deeply embedded part of my personality at this late date.
1nd I had to find my own way in art and in life. And that is what I did. Not without pain. God, it was painful to leave that place and that man but I had to. I had to save what was me and to keep myself into merging into his strong persona. So, I went back to college and received my masters and began teaching. And, he thought I was a sell out and I thought I had finally found my place in the world because I knew I was a nurturer at heart. Those were good years teaching my 18 and sometimes many years older, students. They were, for the most part, a joy and kept me young and my mind was far more nimble and agile than it is today. But, when I met my husband, we had a problem. He lived in Arizona and I lived in East Texas. After some debate, I decided to move to Arizona, to give up my job, and to marry this strange man that loved me and that I loved. But that really is another story entirely. It's much more complicated than I make it sound. And, I will have to explain later about the tangled path that brought me to him.