My Art Sustains Me

Today is being graced with another snow avalanche. One of my friends called it the "white death". I gave up on the idea of driving out to do some errands, and instead covered the car and shoveled the drive and came on inside. There's an old run of "V" on the sci fi channel, I'm guessing because the new season is about to begin. I find it absolutely fascinating that the leader is an "evil" female! I've pulled out the old scrapbooks and I'm surveying the pictures of my artwork. I've been drawing ever since I can remember. To hear my mother tell the story, I was drawing pictures at 5 years old that were amazingly realistic and accurate. I make a slight chuckle to myself, because, somewhere along the way, I drifted over into the realm of Picasso and certain other impressionistic artists, and then focused on Art Nouveau for awhile. Each of the periods I have studied and obsessed on seemed to be the easiest for me to achieve. Instant gratification being what it is. At least, with such an ability, I could create a large number of drawings, instead of just one very difficult drawing.


It was generally out of self preservation that I took pen or pencil to hand. My father use to make us go on long car trips every weekend. Or so it seemed. I guess it made sense because he was always working or going to school. It was easy to pack everyone up and go to his mother's house and get pampered while we could play with our cousins. It was probably hardest on my Mom dealing with all of it. My brothers were always playing games or fighting, and even though I didn't have earplugs, I would block everything out by creating my own world with paper and pencil, or pen and crayons. That is how it began. Any time I needed to escape, or felt restless or felt insecure, I would draw. Drawing was something I could control. I love creating beauty. Creating something beautiful has a calming effect on me. That desire, that practice, has never left me.

When it came time to go to college, the obvious choice for me was Art. But, my father refused to pay for an Art degree. So, I quit college, ran away with a new lover and got married, got pregnant and moved out-of-state all within a few months time. I don't recommend such rash and unthinking behavior to anyone!

I am enjoying going through my inventory and organizing what I have horded over the years. I'm thinking I will sell everything I can, give some pieces away to good homes and keep some of my favorites. I want to start some new work and I'm tired of hauling extra stuff every time I move, or trying to find storage space for all of it. When one is "emerging" into a style, they participate in any number of "showings" and "festivals" in order to get the work out there. I definitely have done that, and have some clippings in my scrapbook to prove it. Maybe I'll go back to school and take Art.