I’m not proud to admit that there were several years in my youth that I thought it was the leaning Tower of Pizza.

I was driving on this leg of the trip when we arrived in Pisa, Italy. I thought (and still do) that the French drive crazy, but it was raised to a new level in Italy. The last round-a-bout before the city was packed, but not packed at a standstill, packed at a blazing speed. Dominique told me you just have to go – just fly through it. But I’m from Minnesota – we wave people in. There would be no waving. No thinking. Just doing. I held my breath and double dutched my way into the flow and was flung out through the first exit. Sometimes you just have to trust. 

Some of the most frequent questions I have been asked through the years — How did you know you could become an artist? How did you know you could make it? Weren’t you scared? The truth is, the scariest part was thinking about it. Once I started doing it – I was just doing it. There was no time to be afraid. There was work to be done. And I loved doing it! It was, is, my heart’s truth, and I trust in it.

It has continued to be the case for most things in my life — the worrying is always worse than the doing. Oh, I know, because I can get myself caught up in the worrying, especially in the wee hours. But the doing has always saved me. The living in the light of day. The flinging myself into the mix, the moment, and trusting that I have been given everything I need. 

Through the round-a-bout, onto the main street of the city, I could see it. The most beautiful tower. It was real. Through all of the chaos, it stood strong, a little crooked, but strong. I’d like to think I, we, can do the same.  

I watch the sun come up, and fling myself toward the faith.