Follow the Yellow Brick Road

First brushstrokes on an empty canvas, opening lines of the play, first sweep of the violin bow signaling a symphony of sound; each first impression, perhaps well thought, yet bringing the same feeling of anticipation and perhaps fear that expectations will not be met. First impressions; don’t blink or you’ll miss. That’s how I feel about first entries in a blog, or the first page in a journal or the first note at a recital—more trepidation than perhaps the average person should feel—or then again maybe it’s exactly what the average person does feel. Whichever way it is this is how I feel so I’m getting it all over with so I can move on with the rest of my business here. There now—it’s started. That wasn’t so bad after all.

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