Just got home from our artists' support group meeting called the Artists' Den. Finally finished the first part of the discussion, the one I was dreading about for a couple of weeks now. How was it, you ask? If I was to rate the discussion, I'd give it an average grade. I lead the discussion and I'm giving myself an average grade. Quite ironic that one of the topics we discussed was about self-doubts and being your own worst critic... Am I being too hard on myself? If I were to ask my Dad about the way the meeting was conducted what will he say? Did he like it? Did I properly disseminate the information to the others? Did he really like it? Aaarrgh and double aaaaaarrrggh! I didn't prepare too much for the discussion! I only read the materials this morning, my mind was somewhere else I couldn't concentrate on what I was reading, I thought I could handle it. I have so many excuses. Please forgive me.

One of the things they opened up was the common fear of criticism. I was afraid of not getting one and some of them were afraid of getting one. What I got from the meeting, I thought I could read from their faces and body language were non interest and boredom or was this just me being too hard on myself? Did I get through to them? Why is the first time usually the hardest of them all? Why can't it all be easy? Dad I just wanted them to feel at home, to feel some security within each other. Why do I condemn myself over this? Dad looks at the invisible side while I remain focused on the outside. What would you say to me over all this? Did I get the answers for myself too?

On the way home, near the entrance to our street one of my childhood playmates called out to me. He was in a group of other guys having a drinking spree. I just smiled back in acknowledgment. I hate for them to think that I was a snob or something. It also got me thinking who was more intimidated? Was I more intimidated or were they of me? Do they see me as someone they couldn't talk to because I'm this snobbish guy surrounded by high walls and parents who could afford to provide for me? I'm intimidated of them because they're intimidated of me. I'm intimidated because I fear that they could do harm if they decided they don't like me. It's like I'm surrounded by my high walls and I feel safe in it. I don't bother them, they don't bother me. There's something wrong with this thinking but I couldn't get over it. Left to my own devices I really couldn't and wouldn't. Good thing he's there to help.

He's a lot more patient with me than myself. He even knows me even better than I do. The thing is I don't get to thank him much about everything he's done for me and except for some very small talk I haven't been in contact with him for some months now. *Sigh* I aim to start talking to him again right before I go to sleep and again tomorrow and the day after that till next week, etc. I should, I haven't been my jolly old self lately and there are a lot I should be talking to him.