Class ended last night. It was a good session _ good discussion. Now it's over. Too soon, it feels to me. I've taken three classes since I left school. I like them. I've learned at least one piece of useful knowledge from each _ often more than one. This class followed that. I'm going to work on my next idea attuned to a few new dimensions.
It made me sad. I feel like I'm trying to break into something I'll never be a part of. I'm not a good talker. You can get into a lot of places talking a good game _ we all know that _ even if your work is shit. People make careers out of it. My work may be shit. I'm not saying it isn't. But, breaking the barrier...
I've gotten past it in other parts of my life, but it's taken time. I'm taking very, very, very gradual steps toward something _ getting into a community. I would like that. I very much liked being a part of the indie music community _ particularly in Cincinnati. The arts need all the soldiers they can get. Nobody's gonna get famous on this. Those days are gone. So what's left... work.
One thing that didn't happen this class _ the collection of email addresses to start a "writing group." It never pans out _ more of a formality. Funny thing, I thought everyone had good stuff in this class. I wouldn't mind being in their group. I should've sent that lonely, half-torn piece of notebook paper round the circle. There's always next time, I suppose. I know I'll be back.