Wings of Confidence

“Curiosity will conquer fear even more than bravery will.” - James Stevens

I’ve always loved animals. Growing up I watched a lot of movies and TV shows that featured animals. Tarzan movies, Daktari, Wild Kingdom. When I was about seven or eight years old I looked forward to watching TV in the evening with my parents. I’d take a bath, climb into my pajamas, and then get comfortable in front of the television. On Sundays we watched The Wonderful World of Disney. I preferred anything animated but l also enjoyed the live action stuff. One time we watched a nature special. As the narrator spoke a bird of prey appeared on the screen. It was majestic. Suddenly it swooped down towards a body of water, then shot back up into the air. In its claws it held a fish. I burst into tears. My father explained that’s how it works. Cycle of life stuff. Get over it. At the time I didn’t get it. Life went on.

Some months later I found a dead bird in our front yard. Looking at the lifeless body among the brown leaves sadness washed over me. It wasn’t overwhelming or anything. But the feeling of loss and emptiness was strong. I buried the bird next to a bush underneath one of our widows. It felt like the right thing to do.

A few months later I wanted to see how things turned out. So I dug it up. That’s right. I went into the yard, found the little grave, and dug up the bird. Some bones were too fragile to recover but when I was finished I had the skull and most of the rib cage. I was fascinated by the skeleton. Especially by the skull. I couldn’t stop looking at it. It was majestic. I thought, “I have to draw this.” So that’s what I did. I also tried to label everything. When I was done I returned the bones to the grave under the window. I was so proud of the the artwork, especially of the bird skull, that I felt that I had to show someone. So I took my drawings to school for show and tell and told the story of the bird that had died in my family’s yard.

From crybaby to grave digging artist. That last part may sound a bit creepy, but it really was nothing more than the natural curiosity of an eight year old boy. That and a love of animals.

I still love animals and I still love to draw. I also love to write.

Next: A Writing Exercise

A Time When I Was Deeply Embarrassed

“You can’t be afraid to deal with your demons. You’ve got to go there to be able to write.” - Lucinda Williams

When I was a high school student I walked to school every day. I walked with a good friend of mine after meeting him in front of his house. During our walk we talked about the kinds of things all kids talk about, homework, movies, girls. I was a bit of a nerd so we talked about science fiction more than we talked about girls. One day I told him the idea for a short story that I had.

I gave him the details as we walked through the neighborhood. I can still remember how excited I was. He made some comments as I started. As I got further into the story he stopped commenting. A few minutes before arriving at school I got to the the surprise ending. I felt so satisfied and waited for the praise that was sure to come. He responded with something like, “You know, I’ve read that story.”

Shame washed over me. My story wasn’t my story at all. I had just repeated the plot of something I had read. Said it was mine. And I wasn’t expecting to be called out. Talk about not looking ahead. I mean it was obvious wasn’t it? Where the heck did I think I was going with this? Whatever words I said in response are long forgotten. We walked into school and went to our classes.

I still think about that day sometimes. It bothers me. It’s not  just the obvious shame and embarrassment of being caught lying. It’s something more. I was caught stealing. I felt like a thief. It wasn’t a good feeling. I never want to feel anything like that again.

I wanted the results without making any effort. I wanted to be able to say that I had written a story. I wanted all the glory without putting in any work.

The work. Taking an idea and turning it into a first draft. Making new discoveries and connections by editing a first draft. Finishing it. The sense of satisfaction after finishing. Moving on to the next idea without hesitation. Now that is a great feeling. I’d like to think that I learned something. Because what I know now is that the reward comes from doing the work. I can’t wait to get started on the next idea.

Next: The Bird Skull and Gaining Confidence

My First Attempts at Telling Stories

“We live by stories. It’s the principle by which we organize our experience and thus derive our sense of who we are.” - Tobias Wolff

I’ve been interested in storytelling since I was very young. I didn’t realize it at the time, but as I was growing up I kept trying to tell stories of one kind or another. I just wasn’t very good at it.

One day, when I was around eight or nine years old, I was playing with my neighborhood friends. We were in the backyard of one kid’s place doing typical kid stuff. We got bored. I decided to tell a story. I had been listening to an LP story book of one my favorite TV shows at the time, Daniel Boone. Yeah, I’m old. So anyway, I decided to tell a spy adventure story. The set up went well. Adventure Team GI Joe (like I said, old!) on a secret mission all decked out in his spy gear. Dark alleys, fog, mysterious doorways. The sound of footsteps echoing. He’s being followed! When I began I had their rapt attention. I completely lost it within a few minutes. I had no idea what was going to happen next. Suddenly we’re all playing on the swings.

My next step was...puppet theater! I was in Germany visiting relatives. I had a collection of hand puppets so to keep myself occupied I put on a puppet show for my mother and aunt. I don’t remember anything about the story I told, I just remember that I came up with an adventure that included parts for every puppet, two puppets at a time.   

My stage was the back of a couch. My mother and my aunt sat in chairs facing the couch. I was behind the couch holding up the puppets just above the back. The first show was a resounding success. The second show, not so much. I didn’t come up with anything new. Just jumped in and found myself rehashing my previous performance. A few minutes in and I could tell that I was losing my audience. There was no third show.

Another summer, another visit to Germany to visit relatives. Once again I was looking for something to do. This was pre-internet and pre-video games. I decided that I wanted to create a comic book. Another one of my favorite TV shows at the time was The Wild Wild West. I came up with a character, a sheriff. He was easy to draw, get this...he was in the the shape of a star. I did a bunch of sketches. The only other character that I came up with was a villain.  He was also in the shape of a star. Hey, I was kid. The creation of a logical universe was the last thing on my mind. I sure was having fun though. I also had BIG plans. I would write and draw his adventures and then sell the comics to the kids in my neighborhood. You know how kids set up lemonade stands? Do kids still do that? Probably not. My plan was to set up a comic book stand on the sidewalk in front of our house and just let the sales pour in. When we got home my plans were quickly forgotten.

Years later I was in Germany again. This time as a university student for a three week study tour. One day the other students, the professor, and myself were all sitting around a table having lunch. My memory is hazy but I think we were sharing stories about crazy things we’ve done. I start telling my story. Everyone is focused on me. I get to certain point and as I pause someone says “And then?” I keep going and each time I pause “And then?!’ gets louder and more animated. I get to the end and everyone is laughing. That experience really stuck with me over the years. It was so much fun. I'd like to recapture that feeling.

Next: A Time When I Was Deeply Embarrassed