My Story


Why am I an artist? My answer to that is: how could I not be an artist? Creativity has always been in my blood and in my being, so it was only natural that life has led me down many, many artful paths.

Hey, remember the start of school each year as a small child? Everyone can recall those new boxes of 8 common-coloured crayons but, wow! I received a Christmas gift of a gigantic box with 48 colours! I was in crayon heaven! (Indian Red was my favourite) I spent hour upon hour covering paper with colour and more colour. It was the start of a life-long passion, thanks to someone (Mom) who encouraged my creative side.

I was (and still am) fortunate to have supportive family, teachers, college instructors, mentors and artist friends as I moved from childhood to teen to young adult to now. I have no doubt I am in the right place. And today, I still cover surfaces with colour and more colour. As I wrote this, I laughed out loud when I suddenly realized that I am again using wax as my preferred painting/art medium – funny how things in life circle around.

But wait, there is more…

I want to share the story of my most profound experience as an artist.

In 2013, I was one of about 10 people participating in a master level workshop for cold wax & oil artists. It had an immense impact on all participants and even today, we talk about it in wonderment. As we painted, stories bubbled up. The artists all seemed to be coming from over-whelming emotional places—loss, betrayal, sadness, grief, illness, self-doubt. We shared hurts that opened up to raw emotion which each artist expressed in his/her painting and shared the story behind both the emotion and the painting. Tears were the norm as the stories were told. It was very clear why each artist painted they way they did. It seemed we were gathered together for some reason, some healing perhaps, standing with our anguish in plain view yet knowing it was a safe supportive place. Mine seemed minor in comparison—a realization that a shift in responsibilities in my day job was bleeding my life essence away—pointed out to me as a painfully obvious red bleeding “wound”right there on my painting, previously unnoticed by me, I must add.

This experience opened my eyes as to what I must do as an artist. Yes, I produce the paintings but it is not all about me. It is about allowing others to connect with meaning as they view my work. It is about bringing people together with art. It is about bonding with those of a like mind and creative interest. It is about helping people discover their own ability to be creative, an accomplishment which in turn boosts their self esteem. It is about sharing my knowledge with others and using my God-given talents to teach and mentor others or to make their world a better place with my colourful work in their home.

After all, what good am I if I cannot help others reach their potential?

 

(If anyone is interested, you can view my not-so-interesting resume here: Curriculum Vitae  but personally, I’d prefer that you spend the time doing art!)