Even when I didn’t know I was an artist, I guess I was an artist. I’ve always drawn pictures in my mind, making compositions of the landscape going by from the back seat of my father’s car – drawing horses for hours on the living room floor – copying fashion illustrations from my mother’s Vogue magazine. Art has always been my most natural way of speaking.
My parents taught me to protect my instinct of self-direction. I know that I’ve never really had a choice in the course my life has taken.
I have no formal training. I was not recommended as a candidate for college. I did not like nor fit into high school. I chose to walk out of the only drawing class I’d ever attended. The instructor wanted me to draw what he saw – I could only draw what I saw, so I gathered my paper and charcoal and walked away. I am so grateful now that I never learned what not to do….
Humor is my vice. I think the experience of joy is why we’re here. I love to sew and I love to draw. I love the texture, pattern and versatility of fabric. I trust what I do. I trust this journey I am on. I do not trust the media. I am humbled and blessed and very grateful.
