I Don't Get It

It never fails to amaze me when I send out something that I have written. I never have a clue what to expect in return. Sometimes people get so angry about something that does not seem inflammatory to me at all and other times I hear what wonderful things I did. It is kind of like making a dinner out of whatever is in the house and reading about it the next day.

I read that I used things I've barely heard of to create tastes I hardly know exist and ultimately provided a treat for the diners that is really wonderful. I am honored. I am excited. I am lost, because I have no idea how it happened, or how to re-create it in the future. Sometimes even after reading about it, I don't know what I did.

It is not false modesty to say I don't get it, because I really don't.

Worse if I try to re-create it, I worry that I may come across like those kids on television who are so precocious they are unbelievable and in the end not very entertaining. I don't know why, but it is so hard for me to accept it when I hear good things about me, or my work.

It is easy if it is about your work. It seems as clear as day when I think about what you do, but after all you are really good at what you do. You seem to have the education, the training, the experience, the proof that what you do is right and good and fascinating to me. I don't know where to find that for myself.

Until I do I rely on you to keep me straight, to always tell me the truth. I trust you not to let ego get in your way, or my feelings either.

Everyone needs a muse and an editor.