story6056.xml

story6056.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-12

I'm an artist. I was standing in my studio with the TV on. I had just selected my three most favorite brushes to use, when I heard them announce on the news that a plane had just hit the first tower. I stood frozen watching in disbelief. As I watched the devastation, my thoughts were that it was a horrible accident. When the second plane hit, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

I went into the livingroom to sit down. It was then that I heard that a third plane had struck the Pentagon. I began to shake. I called our neighbor and asked if she thought it was Armegedon. I stayed on the phone with her, because I was alone, and felt more alone than ever before in my life. My husband was at work. I called him and said I thought he should leave work and come home right away. We live close to Los Alamos Laboratory, and I was wondering if I should leave for my own safety. I was concerned that more planes were coming, and when the news announced another plane was still heading at a high rate of speed, it made my skin crawl.

My in-laws live in Pennsylvania. I called them to see if they were okay. Then I learned that the third plane had crashed there. At the end of the day, I was too terrified to leave the television screen. It felt unsafe to not be listening to the news at all times. I cried, and then I got angry. We have farm animals, and it took everything in me to go outside and care for them that day. I was glad I did finally, because when I saw that they were still there, I had something "normal" to cling to.

When I could breathe again, the first thing I found myself doing was frantically trying to find our American flag. I couldn't find a place to put it up fast enough. The minute I finished doing so, there was another sense of relief.

It took me nearly two weeks to walk back into my studio. I was so depressed. I kept telling myself that everything was "normal", but I couldn't accept it. Only when I decided that nothing was "normal", did I find the strength to carry on. I admitted to myself that things would never be the same, but I would learn to deal with the change in my country, and the change in myself. When I returned to the studio, there on the table were the three brushes still sitting on my work table in the same place they were in at the first moment of 911. I had to muster up all my courage to remove them and begin again. It was through the words of our President that inspired me to do so. I was so proud of him I wrote the White House and thanked him. It was time to move on as best as I could. I did - one artistic stroke after another.....

Yesterday at the aniversary of 911, I cried again. I still found myself in the same place - the studio with those three brushes. This time was different. The tears were flowing down my face, but the determination to continue to work through it filled my heart. I will not let the terrorists win. I don't know what will happen next. But I do know, I will live my life. I will win the war against terror as long as I can pick up my brushes and paint.....

As the aniversary grew to a close, I said aloud, "God, I'm sorry they had to die. I hope they are with You." I'm a better person because of 911. I reach out more to others. I care. And most of all, I try and wring the best out of each day because we never know when everything might change - again.