What is your deeply buried gift? Don’t think it’s not down there. It is. Something is going to help it rise to the surface. When I was a child, I dreamt of going to Hollywood and making movies. I remember specifically knowing what it must feel like to do that very thing, although I was in the middle of a rural ranchette in Texas. I carried around a video recorder the size of carry on luggage, which attached to a giant news station style camera, and I made movies. I can think of three or four different films that were lost forever in the 80’s. I remember shooting portraits of my cats sitting alongside cowboy hats, with a little 110 camera, and writing story after story and reading book after book. Talking into an old recorder with an English accent, singing at the top of my lungs as I played the piano. These are the snapshots of my childhood forty years ago. When I graduated from the theatre department at Baylor University, I was not ready emotionally and did not have the stamina t…