There was never a “moment” that I knew I was an artist. Instead there were glimpses of “peace and happiness” that always lead me back to art. I wish I would have trusted my art earlier in life.
One of my favorite memories as a little girl was going and picking out a coloring book each Christmas. Since grade school I have loved school supplies and the feel of a pencil in my hand. I remember melting crayons on the stove top and dripping the melted wax over a discarded glass soda bottle. I loved the thought of taking an object that was discarded (like broken old crayons and used bottles) and giving them life in a piece of childhood art.
I am a “self taught” artist. It is in my blood. I have artist on both sides of my family. Most of them I have never truly known. Their paintings are not in a museum or hanging on royalty’s walls but I sense that they are close when I admire…
- Joined August 23, 2007