I said yes.

My recent fourth time presenting for a Daniel Smith Artists’ Materials Friday Live prompted me to look back on my memories and feelings from my first time presenting and smile. I was terrified for weeks leading up to my first event. This terror had been preceded by disbelief. When the company initially reached out my brain immediately responded with the thought, “Oh my, what a large company to be hacked. Guess it happens to the best of us.” But. The messages kept coming. Warm and kind. And my lightbulb came on, brightly enough to dim even my blinding levels of imposter syndrome.

I said yes to presenting even though the Wi-Fi was nearly nonexistent in the art studio because being connected in the far reaches of the house had not been a priority. I said yes to presenting even though I did not know how to use Zoom because during the pandemic Zoom gave my son panic attacks—it was an autism thing—so we had tabled it. I said yes to presenting even though I had never done anything remotely of the sort because a little voice deep down said steadily, “This is the way.”

A few electronics purchases and some practice rounds with friends later? I did it! My voice shook. My hands shook. There was probably something charming in the relatability of my obvious nervousness. I kept participating. On Friday Lives when I was over the moon to be invited again. On Thursday Lives, which are my favorite because they get nerdy. I eventually relaxed enough to hold my brushes steady. And that steadiness? It happened because I was made to feel welcome, because I was inspired by watching other artists be brave in their own presentations, because over time a sense of feeling connected dissolved my sense of isolation in the raw post pandemic years.

I hope by continuing to share that I pay forward the same sense of connection gifted to me.