As a court stenographer (my very first job as an adult), the writing was not my own, of course. Rather, my work involved transcribing the words of lawyers and judges and witnesses who spoke during criminal and civil trials. The transcripts I produced were nearly flawless. I was a perfectionist and would not, could not, release a transcript to the court or to lawyers that was not perfect. I made decent money for my efforts and was complimented by highly esteemed lawyers. It was years later that I learned that not that many people even read the transcripts closely enough to really know that they were flawless. I had spent ALL THAT TIME making sure I produced awesome work, but few noticed.
In my middle-career years, I was a marketing research professional. I wrote my little fingers to the bone. Similarly, the work was not my creative endeavor but, instead, reports of research findings. In that life, I was also complimented for the near-perfect presentation of concepts, but I had to learn not to agonize over whether “the” was capitalized before writing “The New York Times.” Clients didn’t care; they wanted to know what consumers thought about new advertising campaigns, new products, or new techniques to help them simplify their lives.
And, in my last iteration of career woman, I operated Profile America, Inc., where I conducted secondary research, wrote industry profiles, and sold my material as sales-training tools to print media publishers. I also proofed and edited thousands of industry profiles through the years that were written by researchers and writers who worked for Profile America.
All that is to say that I have written, but I have never been creative in my professional writing. Until now. The first creative output for me was writing blog entries for a client and friend, Ross Rossin. He’s the most amazing portrait artist in the world. (I’m really not overstating his greatness … not much, anyway.) I provide the following link to blog posts I wrote for him. He approved them with only the slightest change of a fact or a feeling, to make them more reflective of his own experience.
I created the blog posts after a brief meeting with him and a conversation with his business partner, Karen Hudson. What I wrote were my interpretations of thoughts I absorbed from having had soulful conversations with Rossin. His travel schedule and his long “line” (of clients waiting for portraits to be painted and unveiled) precluded his spending much time reviewing blog posts, so we decided to put a halt to the project. Still, the words and photos I chose paint a lovely picture of the masterful artist and convey a few of his musings.