Intuiting that my fear in painting class wasn’t just a temporary problem I was going to get over any time soon, and knowing it wasn’t healthy to live with so much anxiety, I set out to learn to paint on my own. I soon discovered, however, that even though I might...

“The next assignment, an abstract, was even more baffling to me than the previous ones because I didn’t have a clue about what a good abstraction was. Some of my classmates liked what I came up with halfway through the assignment, but my teacher thought it was trite…

About my painting class, I wrote later:

“I remember only dimly the quality of anguish I felt as I drove off to my first class—and every one after that—a stomach-churning anxiety; I had to muster every ounce of determination I had…

“Dear Linda, “I’ve tried to start this letter three times. I’m finding it very hard to open up and talk about my life just now, I’ve been feeling so moody and strange. “Suddenly I’ve become seriously committed to the guitar. I’m studying with a sweet guy named...

I had only a dim memory of these events until I came across the following account—written at the time—among my papers:

I got Marlo Carregio’s name from the Music Department at Long Beach State, where she taught. After auditioning for her…