Okay. Deep breath.

 I have learned, by too much effort, that if you let the fear of failure stop you from taking the chance to do what you know you should with your life, you never really live.

I'm a creator. I'm the kind of creator who goes all over the place, and can do many things, and when I go to those places, I never want to go alone. For the rest of my life, I want to build things that allow me to create, and for others to create along with me. That's it.

 Seems simple enough.

 Not when you can't pay the bills. And that one terror can stop you in so many ways.

Yesterday I talked to a writer here in Elizabethtown about my theater projects, my hopes for bringing professional theater to this area, and how I hope that pulling everything I do together will help keep things going by bringing in money from every resource I personally  have.

 But even with all the creative resources you might have at your disposal, you can't make things happen without support. After awhile, you run out of energy and time and even health. That's why it's also important to have people who truly believe in what you do, and what you are doing.

 Last Saturday, after two weeks of very hard and long work, I showed some of my craft and art at a local festival. In wind gusts up to 60 mph. It was freezing. My sister and brother-in-law got up at the crack of dawn to help me, and froze right along with me. Frank went home to do his farm work after everything was set up (and to try to get the feeling back in his hands!), but my patient, lovely, ever-supportive sister Dot did her best to stick it out with me, even though her health can't take that kind of weather anymore. I will never forget how she looked, bundled up to the top of her head, as positive as possible in spite of everything. But she had to go by midday, it was too much, it was too much for everyone. I was amazed by how many people did stay as long as they could. I was amazed I stayed after my tent went flying away. People came by and loved my work, but who was going to take money out when that money might just fly all the way to Florida if they did?

 I congratulated an Amish vendor for managing to sell hand churned ice cream in that weather. He smiled and said he didn't sell much. But that he sold at all was amazing. It was a triumph.

 It would be so easy to give up and go back to some 9 to 5 job - if someone is hiring crazy artsy old dames.  I could get my bills paid and have a sensible private and very dull life. Then I wouldn't have the time to do all the work necessary to make my own real life happen, and make the spaces where others could build their own real lives. I think that is a thousand times more important.

Many lives are nourished by what we create out of our true selves. I didn't come into this life to just take care of my own needs and never think of anyone else.

So - in spite of bills looming and tension that could rip apart steel beams, I will keep going. If you believe in what I do, read along. Or come along. Or help make it happen. I'll be here just about every day, with the latest of the dramatic scenes, from now on. I'll show you what I'm doing, and I'll show you someone else's work that I find amazing.

 If you want to help the work along, there is a link at the left to my donation site. I'll keep you informed about how that is helping as well.

 For now: never ending thanks to Dot and Frank, and all my family, and all the friends who constantly remind me they believe in me, and by that belief are creating along right by my side.

 The first thing I want to share:

I made this video for a project I call The Madwoman Project, which is about using the dark energy of depression in creative ways. The music in this video was created along with a wonderfully gifted pianist named Todd Carter, in 1993. He improvised the piano piece, and I built my vocal improvisation over his music. This has evolved into one of my favorite pieces, one that has helped a number of people who have lost hope when they are in the middle of depression.