For most of my childhood and teen years I wanted to be an artist. I painted, sketched, did ceramics, basically anything where I could create something out of my own mind. I loved the smell of art erasers, turpentine, wet clay, pastels, loved how my hand and arm would turn black with graphite as I drew. And for years I also wanted to be a fashion designer, yet I never, ever considered going to art school. It seemed, at the time, not practical. What does one DO with an art degree? How does one LIVE as an artist? (Asked my 18 year old self… I didn’t know anyone that had a career in art, most just had it as a hobby. Also, it was the 90’s, things were way different then.)
So I went to college and majored in Business, because that seemed practical. I had no idea what I would do with this degree, but it seemed like the thing to do. I eventually got my Master’s in Reading Education and taught elementary school (my other passion is nurturing young minds.) Life took me into other directions, as it tends to do. I became a mom and learned the beauty and restlessness of staying home with two small kids. I started a style blog and re-learned my love of fashion and creativity, and discovered I was pretty good at writing. I blogged, and wrote, and learned how to brand myself when social media came along, and dabbled in direct sales, and always, drawing was a thing I did for msyelf when I had the time.
During quarantine and the beauty of lots of time home, I rediscovered drawing and painting again. This, for me, is pure joy. I don’t have to think, I just create what sounds good. Creating this way is pure fun and it has never, ever dawned on me that something I love so much could be anything more than a hobby. It tends to surprise people when they see what I create, possibly because it has always been MINE, a secret thing for my enjoyment only. Cont. in comments…
