Why I Became an Artist:
To truly understand the paintings coming off my easel, there are two things you should know.
First of all, for better or worse, I was born a sensitive soul… Every experience affects me SO VERY DEEPLY. They travel straight to my core, and while I smile and laugh a lot - I’m also a daily cryer and take things a little too personal. Secondly, it took me longer than the average child to learn how to speak, and even after my words were understandable, it was still difficult using words to translate my thoughts and connect with others. I remember being so frustrated about having something to say and not being able to express it. I began to listen more and speak less.
As the quiet kid reputation grew, I learned that if you fail to connect and talk to others, others will do the same to you. It felt like I was an outsider looking into social situations, even if I was sitting at the same table. Feelings of isolation and sadness swelled up inside of me every time this scenario repeated itself, which was often - family gatherings, the school lunch table, recess, extra-curricular activities.
I always had the urge to run - away from being uncomfortable and away from the stories others told for me. My favorite part of the day was when I laid my head down to go to sleep. I loved being in my dreams, reading books, being in nature, or playing with dolls or animals. Anything to transport me away from reality. I could always imagine a more beautiful place to spend time.
All children draw, and at some point very early in my life I latched onto drawing. It was a suitable solo activity, and also helped me tap into another form of expressing and connecting. I’m sure that compliments I received for my efforts only fueled the fire. For someone who felt alone and left out to be appreciated because of this other thing sparked a new feeling of acceptance. I don’t know where determination comes from, but to say the least, I was compelled to be better, gain skill, and impress others with drawing. After several crafty art lessons that never quite filled my desire for skill, my mom found a local artist that I could learn from. I was in my early teens when I started taking private drawing lessons, and within just a few weeks, I saw massive improvements in my efforts. I quickly drank up everything my teacher offered in her home eventually landing on oil painting. She was gentle in her approach to teaching and always kind. It felt as though she had gifted me a superpower, and with this power, my confidence grew a little.
The uncomfortable feelings in groups never went away, and as I got older - I found other things that also gave me superhuman abilities - my car allowed me to avoid situations altogether and I skipped school, left during lunch hour and arrived at just the right time so I wouldn’t have to chit chat before class. Smoking, drinking, and bad relationships filled some of the gaps of my longing to connect and be accepted, and I ended up pregnant my senior year of high school. My daughter Averi gifted me a new purpose that exceeded my internal motivations, and even though I hated it at the time - she grounded my urge to run away, and linked me to family. As a baby raising a baby, I proceeded to further my education, find independence, and create a life for Averi and myself.
Art was always the healthiest solution. It was trusty friend that helped me work through deep feelings and introduced me to kindred spirits. I played and unloaded at the easel. While in college, I experimenting with all sorts of medias, attempting to stretch the boundaries of my visual vocabulary, but I’ve read that people go back to their first hand. Maybe it’s because tactile memories are so strong. With oil paint, I remembered the smell and being amazed at forms appearing with the stroke of a brush - and most of all - the memory of my confidence growing with painting.
The works I create now are stories and feelings spoken through paint. They can be symbolic in many ways and are ever evolving as I grow as a person. The paintings result from introspective wanderings. Like a person wandering down a beach, I pick up a shell from here, and a rock from there and display collections of my subconscious with layers of paint. Themes such as invisibility, connection, vulnerability and instinct tend to bubble to the surface. Similar to being a child fueling their imagination with toys, I sometimes construct scenes to paint which gives me the opportunity to experiment with new stories and keep my skills sharp. In my studio, I’m safe and free to imagine and transform ordinary things with my own interpretations.
Whether I am adding a spin to reality or conjuring up a visual you’ve never seen before, the driving force is still the same. I want to connect and communicate on some common ground. And as I hang my heart on the wall for you to see, I hope I can inspire people who have walked a similar path or had that feeling too.
It’s ok, I accept you, and I hope we can be friends.