All the stories are complete. All the sketches are done. The wood panels are complete and stacked, waiting for me. The wax, pigments, torch, brushes, heat gun, knives and hot plates are all waiting. But where am I? I am looking for something else to do. I decide I should dust and vacuum first. I've been through this so many times. It is scary, truly intensely emotional, to have to again see if my hands can create something worth keeping. Have they ever been successful before? How do I know? So many doubts. Maybe this will be the time that only trash appears on the wood panels. It's weird, after decades I really am apprehensive, more than when I was young and confident. I didn't look at