When you write a manuscript like I have, like any writer you put yourself out there vulnerable to the world. You can expect criticism, or praise.
If your story is nonfiction and based on life experiences you once again are subject to these same observations. When you write anything controversial as in Imitating Snowflakes expect doubt and many questions. Expect to be labeled as unstable, disturbed, detached from reality. For me its all fine. I have already heard it all from people who claimed to be friends, or others who just looked at me with raised eyebrows.
As for the reality of it all its very real. Will the powers that be admit to what they did? Doubtful, If anyone questions me or my sanity its only a book, don’t panic.
I wish it were truly that simple for it has taken me nine years to be able to address the episodes as they tuly transpired according to me.
I never spoke to anyone directly involved in the case again. I never have seen any of them ever again. I have never went home again.
On an open field of freshly fallen snow so pure an innocent, the untouched fragile existence of virgin snow, no longer.
One day it all just stopped and I was left to pick up the pieces.
Vacantly smoking a cigarette in a dark corner of a poorly lit room I question everything.
I never really made art again. I never showed art again publicly either until this blog.
In the last nine years I had only done four small minor paintings. I was once prolific as an artist. This blog has begun my beginning or my end?
I get up each morning have my coffee and on my coffee table lays my gun. I spin the 9 -millimeter watching as it turns like a roulette wheel. I wait until it stops.
I wait till it has a direct aim pointing at me.
Well, when it does,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, That’s Life………………..
Click on home and Please read on, if intersted in the true story of an artist’s life.
Thank you, Rodney