Fast forward through life a number of years, through fire performing, modelling, and various career choices, I’m sitting at my computer looking at an email that’s got me running at level 10 anxiety. As far as my brain is concerned there’s a fucking jaguar trying to maul my ass but all I’m doing it staring at a few words. A friend and local lady photographer had asked me to give a lecture at her studio. Shit.
I had known that I wanted to teach at some point, but had never really had the incentive to stand up and say “Hey! I’m gunna do this!” so instead the universe pushed me off the cliff anyway and here I was responding very uncertainly “Yes” with a novel of fine print that the course might actually be *fucking* awful and that I’d never spoken in front of a class before. We priced it cheap and made it only 3 hours and kept the crowd small and understanding.