Today I breached a hunormous barrier: I confessed to my fellow students at Citylit that I have been writing a blog. Here's my logic: they are all really impressive writers, sympathetic but critical listeners and voracious readers. What better people to have reading my fledgling efforts? Nevertheless I am a bit nervous. I have had such a rewarding experience with all three classes I've taken there: my acting class, however nutty they could be at times, and the wonderful Pip Mayo who taught it, and my screenwriting class, whose teacher I have to confess is less forthcoming than the other students, and now my fiction class, the best of all so far. I plan to spend the rest of my days in London taking one course after another, getting better, one hopes, at whatever it is I am meant to be doing here. I have to say that so far, chronicling what's been happening has been almost as much fun as doing it.
By the way, this image is of a work of art by Maliheh Afnan, a Palestinian-born artist, whose work, to me, invokes text, and the history of setting down words. Powerful, no? How we struggle with words.
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