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For a long time, I told myself I couldn't draw faces. Until one day, it occurred to me that someone calling themselves an artist couldn't expect anyone to take them seriously as long as they had that belief.
I took a class. And another class. I practiced, and faces started appearing in my planner, on scraps of paper and in the margins of the desk diary while I was on hold with Telstra. And guess what? Not only did I discover I could draw a face - I also discovered I enjoyed it.
There was another discovery, too. These faces seemed to want to tell us things. Many people saw themselves in the eys and faces of these girls as they came to life in my journals. So one day, (thanks to the encouragement of a couple of magical writer friends) I sat down to 'listen' and see if I could hear what these girls had to say.
Maybe that nudge you need, or encouragement you crave might be tucked in these messages?