By Barbara Jorgen Nance

Once upon a time, before time was counted, stories began. As a visual artist, I felt my paintings and sculptures told their own stories. On the other hand, the written word seemed to be far from my reach. Three years ago when I was asked to write this column, I thought I was a girl with no story, but to my surprise I seem to have a Scheherazade story telling soul with an endless storyline. I believe every one of you reading this column right now has a story to tell, as well. You don't need to be shackled to a typewriter with a skyscraper stack of polished notes to begin your story.

Barbara's thoughts on writing lessons: Get paper and write! Thirty some years ago I signed up for a creative writing class at a city college in California that I will not name. I was so excited about new opportunities on the horizon of combining my visual art with the written word. With pencils sharpened and new lined notebooks in every color, I took a front row seat in the class. I stay focused, sitting on the edge of my chair, listening intently to the teacher. This was new territory for me and I was excited to give it my all. I worked diligently on my first homework assignment before turning in my story. The following week was a crushing disappointment. I felt like a dart board and the teachers discouraging words were the sharpened darts repeatedly poking holes in my spirit. GǣToo allegorical,Gǥ he said. GǣToo abstract, childish and he could be of no help to me as a teacher." Did he only have precious time for more serious, sophisticated writers? Did he not like me? I felt like a beaten down puppy and slinked away never to return.

Perhaps I should have stood my ground and asked him to help me grow as a writer before he threw me in the wastebasket. But I didn't. It did teach me a great lesson in compassion for my own art students later on in life. I taught sculpture and cartooning at Dunn private school. Whether or not the kids I taught had any supposed artistic talent, every one of them had their own creativity and I wanted to encourage them as strongly as I could.

So, three years ago, when I was asked to write this column, I remember saying, GǣI'm no writer,Gǥ and MAM said: GǣOh, I think you might be." Because of that small encouragement, I tried it. So, let's encourage each other to just try. Don't worry if someone doesn't like you or what you do. They say half the people you meet in life won't like something about us anyways, so you might as well be yourself.

I hope you've enjoyed reading the column these past three years. Also, I hope I've given you some interesting things to think about, entertained you and made you laugh on occasion.

Thank you for reading GǣBarbara Ponders." And I look forward to having you read my messages for at least the next three years.