I remember standing in front of Van Gogh when I was ten years old, my mother and grandmother beside me, both of whom were artists. They often took me to wondrous museums and galleries where I learned to appreciate the works of the impressionist painters.
I became a painter as well. In high school I spent hours dwelling on fine details of the tiger’s hair or the lion’s eye to give it a realistic feel. But as I grew older, through college, where I learned from and experienced the art of others, I returned to the wonder of my childhood years and the impressionists.
But like many artists, I used art to pay my bills and began a career in advertising and design where I learned art as a commercial message to consumers. Art paid my bills.
When I became a mother, I brought art and taught art into my children’s lives. From the time they were very young through middle school I taught art to my children’s classmates. Later, when they moved on, I helped children with art in science and large mural projects on public school buildings. I mentored many artists into advanced programs at high school and into careers of their own.
I left teaching to tend to my aging mother. In each day of her ending life, she continued to remind me that artists live on through their work. At her passing, I am grateful for the love of art she has taught me.
What you see in my body of work is the passion of the ten-year-old girl influenced by the generations of women who patiently took her to the vision of the great masters. I hope you enjoy it.