"Summer" (screening sculpture with Jasmine growing out of the top)
My life has taken many twists and turns giving me both exhilarating surprises and heart wrenching blows. But the one thing that’s been a constant through it all is my art.
Ever since I could hold a pencil or crayon, or (oops) even my mother’s lipstick, I’ve been driven to make marks, whether it’s commas or colors. It’s who I am. Even if I wasn’t always sure or encouraged, I was always making something. I’ve taken classes, learned from others or taught myself a wide variety of arts: hand embroidery, crochet, knitting, sewing, beading, jewelry making, fabric painting, watercolor, pastels, oil and acrylic painting, wheel and hand building in clay, life drawing, creating writing classes, journalism for print and broadcast, advertising copy, newsletters, poems, short stories, interviews and podcasts.
New clay cup (picture by Chris Curren)
Even though my art has changed over the years and continues to evolve, my passion, desire and vision have remained a constant.
When I was afraid and laying on a table waiting for an x-ray, I looked up and saw faces in the lines of the ceiling tiles. When I was happy and sitting in front of a beautiful ocean sunset, I saw cadmium red, vermillion and hansa yellow melting into a Prussian blue sea. When I wander around my neighborhood, I hear snippets of conversations that form into dialogues or short stories. When I do an interview, I am inspired by others brave, creative journeys.
Demonstrating at Art In The Pearl (picture by M. Turner)
Now, with my daughter newly married with a new life and my son soon out on his own, my house is very quiet. I am happy and proud and nostalgic and a little sad. After spending a big part of my life, on the lives of my children, I wonder what’s next in my life.
Raku class (picture by Chris Curren)
Then, I sigh, feeling a smile form through the tears. And I know. All I have to do is grab a hold of that clay, gather up those colors, pick up a few fallen leaves on my walk, listen to the whispers on the wind, and type on my laptop. My life question is answered: art. I reach out and find that although many elements of my life have changed, my lifeline has not.