I went to a watercolor painting class at the Bemis School of Art, which is an appendage to a museum here. There was a time when I would have so much self-talk: "I don't belong here. Who do I think I am? What makes me think I have any talent? How dare I do anything that includes art! I am not an artist. These people are so much more artsy than I. I better not ask any questions and look stupid. What makes me think I can draw? I better trace instead." I had none of that today. I was so grateful to be driving through the city surrounded by mountains to an art class, then home to a husband that loves me and wants me to be happy, that the question of belonging didn't enter my mind. Neither did the question of whether or not I can call myself an artist enter my mind. I was so present: I am taking an art class because I want to and I can and thank you God for putting this teacher and this class on my path.