I bought this art glass chicken when I moved into my studio about four years ago. I had a new space, a new desk, and lots of new bookshelves. Filling the shelves wouldn't be hard, what with the billions of books I hoard. But instead of shoehorning in nothing but books, I indulged my nesting instinct and made room for a few additional objects on the shelves, such as photos of my kids and an hourglass representing making time for writing.

That week I happened upon this chicken at the craft store. I knew at once she belonged on my shelves. I was at a point with my writing where I needed to plunge in and take some risks. My new fine-feathered friend would roost on the top shelf—a vantage point from which she would eye me all day, every day, admonishing me to quit being such a big fat chicken. 

So now that's her job, being the big fat chicken. My job is to make the art I feel most passionate about and reach out to connect in ways that compel me. Oh sure, those things are still scary. But with a chicken riding shotgun, I have to be the courageous one. 

I've had "start a blog" on my to-do list for...years, probably. Before I started writing the Aldo Zelnick series, I also had "write a children's book" on my to-do list for an embarrassing number of years.

In both cases, the biggest hurdle between me and the doing of those things wasn't busyness. Sure I was busy...but busyness is like a gas...it dissipates or condenses as needed to make your days seem full regardless. No, the biggest hurdle was fear.

In their excellent book Art & Fear, which I highly recommend, David Bayle and Ted Orland write:

“To require perfection is to invite paralysis. The pattern is predictable: as you see error in what you have done, you steer your work toward what you imagine you can do perfectly. You cling ever more tightly to what you already know you can do – away from risk and exploration, and possibly further from the work of your heart. You find reasons to procrastinate, since to not work is to not make mistakes.”

Yes, to not write a blog is to not make a fool of myself. But if there's anything that writing the Aldo Zelnick series has taught me, it's that putting yourself—your truest self—out there is the only way to really connect with others and make a difference, even if now and then you do make a fool of yourself.

So here goes nothing...and everything!