I did my very first public reading Wednesday night after presenting bits and pieces to the writers group I go to every week. It was only five minutes in front of an open mic, but having an audience felt like stepping off a cliff. Then I went straight home and edited the sentence I tripped over, which was probably the point of reading out loud to begin with.

I used to paint. I had a distinct style and was in shows in Europe and across the States. I didn’t make much money but I have a nice resume. I even had a blog on which I posted daily. But the work at the end was too New York and didn’t translate well to the Cape although I’ve been in shows here too and my piece at a members exhibit at the local art museum sold during my first summer in Provincetown.

The problem was painting became depressing. After almost six decades of making marks as if my life depended on it, and sometimes it did, I had to stop. I’d been that precocious child playing in clay or drawing on walls or the student most likely to be in charge of the class mural projects. I have a degree from a prodigious art school and moved to Soho where I looked and acted like an artist in spite of always having a day job. I know how to spread paint around until it’s perfect. I know when to put the brush down. I also know how to promote the work and show up for openings, and I can frame and hang it myself.

But then I began to write; first was a long memoir tucked away in the proverbial drawer, then two novels, both written or started in New York, that precede the one I’m working on now but involve the same characters and function as back story but need to be totally rewritten again to be published.

Baby steps.

My coming to Provincetown is too long a saga to tell at this point, but clearly I’m meant to be here. I like to think it’s for the writing; that I need to take it seriously and commit to this being more than entertaining myself with the lives of my characters. So I post on my blog and send it out into the ether hoping somebody sees it. I go to my group, I’ve engaged a mentor, and I’ve been invited back for the next open mic in January.

Anything is possible if you just say yes, and don’t quit before the miracle happens.