| I was often called stupid as a kid. What’s weird is that I excelled at certain things. Not math and sciences and history, etcetera. But in the arts, I was top of the class. Art and music. But it had to be my way. Example: I remember in elementary school our teacher told us to line up to sharpen our fat red pencils for the day. No thanks. I don’t want mine sharpened. I like the shady moodiness of a dull pencil… rather than a sharp line, I preferred a melancholy that looked more like charcoal than pencil. The teacher got so angry with me that she rapped my knuckles with her ruler. Even in high school, I loved the moody effect I could achieve with my watercolors. “You’re doing it wrong!” Even my dad, an artist himself, scolded me for not following the rules of art. Still, I was top of the class in art and music. At the end of high school, we were to sit down with our guidance counselor to receive advice on how to move forward in our lives. He looked at my transcript and told me that I should bother with further education because I would fail. Instead, I should just look for a job somewhere. I wish I could go back and tell him that I graduated cum laude with my B.A. and with my M.A., won a prize in Reformed Theology in my Diploma of Ministry, and got a Diploma in University Education, then went on to write 10 books so far. I wish I could go back to all those math and English and history teachers and explain to them that even though I was different and indifferent in their classes, that I read all that stuff now with great interest. But I am still an artist… a creative… mostly. No, I’m not stupid. I sincerely believe everyone has their own kind of intelligence. Their own kind of wisdom. And it shows up in unconventional places and often in illicit mediums. I never fit. I never fit in either. But I love my life. And I love people. And many people love me too. That’s not stupid either. | 
