“He’s talking about marriage,” I said to L.
“Is he?” she said.
“He’ll snap out of it,” I said.
L. laughed. She was so pretty. Men looked at her everywhere we went. “Why do you say that?” she said.
“They always do,” I said because I wanted to be funny.
It is hard to believe nice things said about my work. Where does this doubt come from? The other day my five-year-old son said, “My art is stupid. Nobody likes my art.” How many words does it take to undo that thinking?
Where does your doubt about your work come from? If you don’t have any doubt, how did it miss you?