The Making of an Artist

My first attempt at college, goals and dreams were big. Planning on majoring in art, I sign up for a variety of drawing painting art history and other classes. I had the same teacher for most every art class. He didn't seem to like me. He would start each class and then disappear, usually for all but the first five minutes I learned later that he was having an affair with a student he later married. People in the classes liked my abilities and were often turning to me for help. However, this did not improve my status with the teacher who was relentless towards me slamming my work. On one occasion we were sent out to draw clouds. Before he returned to class we all put our sketches on the floor. He proceeded to got on and on about mine to class in a positive way. Then hearing snickers from the class he remarked: "Oh, is that yours?" He then abruptly abandoned the positive comments towards my work. He was not giving me credit for my turned in works and my final straw was as he belittled me in front of my class mates telling me I do not do the work. I went into his office and began pulling my works and assignments off his desk this is mine and this and this dropping them onto the floor I stormed out of the class never to return. After I dropped school he told a friend of mine that he was so hard on me because he thought I had possibilities, to me he was just a jerk. It wasn't just him, I left home at 15 and times for my first attempt at college just were not easy. Nonetheless, my dream was smashed. I was 17 and my college accomplishments were a few sketches and one acrylic painting of fireworks.

It took ten years for me to return college and My major was no longer art.

I also took an art history class with that very same teacher

Although I had always continued to draw, I never pursued the once passionate dream on a professional level. Except for a brief job doing line art for a pet store catalog because I fell on my tush fishing, broke my leg and was laid up in bed with a cast up to that same tush. Clink her to see those drawings.

In 2002 I had health issues that left me wondering about life and most accurately set me to venture through a mid life crisis. I began to write more than I ever had written before and drawing again became a very active part of my life. I spent the next 16 months going through oral surgery that left me looking often like an early man creature but also lead to the return of normal blood counts and as I am still alive a longer life.

Then in 2004, I pulled out a gift of oil paints and brushes from my husband and on the hottest summer day painted a winter scene. It turned out well to begin with. At least until I put my glasses on and realized the brushes had left a fuzzy trail of bristles on the entire painting. I plucked them out and tried to repair the painting but alas is wasn't meant to be. It was however, a valuable lesson in painting. Clink to see that attempt.

I began to draw more fervently. Not just with plain old pencils but with a set of colored pencils. Then I added watercolor pencils. that quickly turned to watercolor paints.

The challenge of watercolors and the force issue of letting go of some of the control for my anal retentive side, had me more than hooked with this medium. No matter what else I am doing there is usually at least one watercolor painting sitting about for me to work on.

I began reading books on art, artists and many of the how to books available at the local library.

In reality I have studied art my entire life. I am the first to want to visit museums and galleries and the last to want to leave. Studying every stroke of my favorites I have great admiration for those with talents to share.