But, when I turned sixty I was serious. I took a class and invested in canvas, paint, and ephemera. Then the learning curve started. My first paintings had elements of other artist's work. I was copying but that was a beginning.
I found results in my artwork that have nothing to do with end process. Detail work never attracted me but I found myself doing small, tedious work and liking the calm that comes.
Words play a big part in my art. The marriage of ideas and images is most inspiring to me. I find nuances of big concepts in an image and a simple word can bring the whole story together.
Last week my friend Rebecca asked if she could photograph me in a work setting for a class project. I found her presence reassuring as she asked questions about my paintings. Her photographs blew me away. She captured the fun I have when I go upstairs to play.
The latest paintings have a new look. They draw me closer to what I feel is still deep inside. I"ll be excited to see what will emerge in six more months.
I owe I debt of gratitude to:
- My Dad who showed me how art kept a person mentally healthy.
- My husband who keeps listening.
- Brené Brown who offered a art journal class which changed my life.
- Kelly Rae Roberts whose class gave me a foundation and a community to share within.