Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. And, if she was honest, she still didn't. It wasn't her mind that had changed. It wasn't even thhe mind of the world in general. Just the rather pleasant opinion of one particular man who she had met while walking into town. He had caught her eye as she passed, caught her hard and fast in fact. She was forced to an abrupt halt, staggered by it's impact. Not unpleasant, mind. Gentle, but admiring. There was power in that. He had looked and smiled and then complimented her on her looks, telling her in a broad northern accent that she was exceptionally pretty, almost ethereal. Stunnedshe wasn't at all sure what to say. How does one respond to a comment like that? And how does a person unused as she was to compliments of any kind, unless they were directed at her talents, her skills, unless they were about her mind and abilities with the pen and the page, with paints and crayons. To be told that she was attractive physically in any way, well, that was strange. That was unusual. That put a smile on her face that remained long after the moment has passed and well into the evening.

She wondered if she would ever see him again, the strange benevolent man, the man twho had, in a moment, completely changed her life, the man who had instilled in her a littl e confidence and hope. She very much hoped so. He seemed nice, a good, healthy person to know, someone who. Was comfortable in his own skin and could help her to be more comfortable in her

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becsatherton (joined over 10 years ago)
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I have always loved art and drawing has been an important part of my life ever since I can remember. Having creative parents provided me with the right genes and also meant that my naive dabblings were given plenty of encouragement. Growing up, our kitchen walls were lined with huge pinboards which displayed my work. I guess you could say that this was my first exhibition, my audience consisting of family and friends. To date – apart from school and university, where there was always a termly show – it remains the only one. Life interfered with other priorities and stole away my earlier confidence.
Since graduating, I have been a web designer, a graphic designer, a magazine editor, an art director, a copy writer, a literary consultant, a poet, an aspiring novelist, and many other less inspiring things. I have also founded a literary arts magazine called Inside Out, which published two issues before the recession hit.
For the last year, I have been hard at work writing and drawing and would now call myself a writer, poet, artist and illustrator. I use these mediums as ways to better understand myself and find them helpful in exploring and resolving personal problems. This was the focus of Inside Out, which promoted creativity for personal development and emotional well-being. One day I hope to qualify as a creative therapist, offering workshops and retreats and teaching this valuable skill to other individuals.

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Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty.
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