I am a Storyteller.

When people ask me what I do, I know they are asking me my profession. I am a Museum Director, that's the title I have been assigned by my employer. But that's not all of what I do or all that I am. Even the title I've been assigned doesn't tell anyone what I do at the museum. It's difficult to find one term that expresses who I am and what I do.

A week ago I had dinner with a friend and wanted to talk to her about some of the conflict I am feeling in relation to the writing and photography I am submitting. The root of my conflict lies in the fact that I feel I needlessly abandoned my art because I judged myself 'not good enough.' When it came time to chose a college degree leading to vocation, I chose to pursue anthropology and abjured art. I enjoyed history and museums, but it was not at the same level. For 16 years, I kept art (painting, photography, creative writing) on the periphery. I never disengaged completely but did not allow myself to fully immerse either.


I was intentionally holding myself, although I don't think I recognized exactly what I was doing. Two years ago I began taking writing workshops to improve my ability to tell historical stories at the my museums. I said the words "to tell better historical stories" but I didn't listen to the words I said. I wanted to tell "stories" but I preceded it with "historical" to separate the writing from creative to professional. Once I started writing regularly, I rediscovering the joy of literature. Following a creative non-fiction and short story writing workshop, I took my first solo cross country trip. I wrote about it and I took pictures. Critically, I knew the writing was pretty good and the pictures were better. I thought, "This is nice."

I continued to write, creating a blog on my genealogy research which also served as inspirations for short stories and creative non-fiction stories. As I prepared for my Doctoral Exams, I started another blog about the literature I was reading and cultural connections I was making. I got more involved in Tiny Houses and started another blog about living in a tiny house (that's this one). After Doctoral Exams were completed and my brain cells regenerated and I continued to write about my interest. The old Doctoral blog was merged with SummerTroll as it expanded.

Then I went on trip to New Orleans with my mother and aunt. I took even better pictures. My artist aunt whose opinion I greatly respect complimented me several times. My photographer uncle told me I had an "artist's eye."
     Am I an artist? I thought and asked my best friend when I went to visit her. She looked at me like the answer was obvious.
     "Of course you are. How did you not know that?"

Now that I am rediscovering my creativity, my artist self, I should be happy, euphoric even. But I wasn't. Last week I talked over my feelings with a friend at dinner. "Have I been wasting all this time denying my art? Should I have stuck with it?" I asked her.
     "You are exactly where you are supposed to be," she said. It's true. My writing and photography were 'not good enough' when I was 18 years old. I knew that then and I recognize it even more so now. Had I continued to pursue art in college, I probably wound up a frustrated artist today. I think I am an artist now because I set it aside and concentrated on other interests and skills which opened up a world of stories.

R. says she likes my pictures because they tell stories. The stories I wrote and publish on the blog are well received and getting better the more I write. The travel writing I publish are also fun and full of stories about people I meet and places I go. Additionally, I continue to tell stories every day at work in the museum. Storytelling is who I am and what I do.

Whereas calling myself an artist was like putting on ill fitting shoes, stating that I am storyteller is the perfect pair of hiking boots. It has nothing to do with how I am published or how I earn money and everything to do with who I am.

I am a storyteller.