Just looking through some old files and home and found this newspaper article I illustrated when I was ten. Suddenly it was obvious to me, like a moth caught fluttering between my glasses and my eyes: Was I a child prodigy?
I was a child, and I did things and kept doing them for a long time, forever, until there was a story, and this, found in some old files, a beginning. An omen. An early dot in a line of dots that now form a picture. Yes, yes.
Someday the same thing may happen with, for example, picking my nose. What if I'm 46 years old and I'm picking my nose all the time, I have a career as a professional nose picker. And I look through an old photo album and I see myself, age 3 (3!!!) picking my nose.
Suddenly everything would fall into place. I've been doing this my whole life. I started picking my nose when I was 3 -- maybe even earlier, who knows. Probably. It's always just come so naturally to me. Everything would make sense. Yes, yes.
Prodigy.
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