Last month, my neighbors invited me to a party at a “paint bar.” It’s a brilliant concept: Combine friends with a mini painting lesson, snacks and alcoholic beverages, and voila! Everyone is a budding artist for a night. We would all paint a wintery version of Boston’s iconic Make Way for Ducklings statues, based on Robert McCloskey’s classic children’s book.
Having never painted so much as a fence, the idea was thrilling … and terrifying.
What if my ducks looked like something that crawled from the sewer, rather than a family of cute yellow quackers? What if my painting was the lamest one in the class? What if? What IF?
This got me thinking about why some people hate writing so much…. Continue reading