First I was going to be a writer. Nooo doubt about it. My first novel was the diary of a heavy metal dude called Thanasi who listened to Slayer and was kind of fat. But I never finished it because I discovered... clubbing! Yes thats right. Carried away by the rhythm of the night I decided that no way could I be a writer. I had to do something active. I was going to become an actress! Off to drama school with me!
But I was shit at learning lines. And I hated naturalistic acting. I preferred to prance around the stage wearing a mask or better still a red nose. Not quite enough to pull off a successful career right? No worries. I would become a
singer! Ah I loved being a singer in a band. Until I realised it was actually *work*. Work that didn't pay. So I decided to be practical. I would teach. I was to become a drama teacher! I had found my calling! Finally I knew what I was to do with my life...
But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I directed professionally. I got good reviews! But on a personal level? Not for me either. Then I got pregnant. Left teaching. Left teaching drama that is. And started teaching yoga. I love teaching yoga, but do I have what it takes to do it full time? So here I am, blogging and embroidering away and asking myself: what am going to be when I grow up? :(
Book Review – 100 Quilts
7 hours ago