Early On

The first time I remember doing art, I was about seven or eight. I'm from a big family, fifth of six children. I was extremely quiet and shy (although nobody believes that now). I wanted a jacket for Christmas, not just any jacket, a jacket like the cowgirls wear. Leather and fringe. I was afraid to ask my parents, thinking they might think it was too tomboy, or just silly. We were in the car driving to St. Louis to see my grandparents for Christmas and I drew a picture of the jacket I wanted and handed it up to my mom. I guess there was conversation about the picture, I don't remember. But, I do remember, I got the jacket.

My parents were indulgent enough to buy me art supplies for my birthday and Christmas, and put me in art classes from time to time. I didn't really like art in school. I realized early on that these teachers didn't know how to draw, and that's what I wanted to know. I kept going on my own, only drawing, I wouldn't use color at all. I wanted to learn how to draw first.

School

First year in college, I went to Flagler College in St. Augustine. The art program there was good, but not great. I enjoyed it, and learned a lot in spite of being a college freshman. I bounced around a few different colleges for a few years, me being my restless self and moving around a lot. I almost finished art school once at the Florida School of Art in Palatka. But, just before I finished, I dropped out and went to work running a printing press. My theory was that since I was studying graphic design in college, I would learn more if I learned the other side of the business. 
Fast Forward to Now

Last year, I woke up one morning and was astonished to discover that I could barely see out of my left eye. After several months and a couple of rounds of medication, my eye only improved slightly. I became increasingly concerned about going completely blind. At that moment, I began drawing and painting more regularly. I am grateful to experience an era of prolific artistic expression and creativity.