What is the first creative moment you remember?
I remember sitting on the floor with my older sister Tamra, leaning against the deep freezer in the kitchen, completely ignoring the commotion going on around us, watching her draw a picture of a woman in victorian style clothes. I was memorized. I reached over to help her draw, of course she was not pleased, I was scolded in good sisterly fashion and told to get my own paper. So I did. And after that I was always drawing, always trying to mimic the beautiful ladies Tamra brought to life with her pencil. I begged her to look at my pictures and to tell me how to be better. She taught me to take criticism and become better for it.
Was there anyone there to witness or appreciate it?
Tamra was there, mostly telling me when I did something wrong. Being annoyed at my pesky attempts to be as cool as she was. And that was the best. It made me work that much harder to again her approval. My parents poured affirmation into my little life. I was never short on praise. Somehow though, I never quite believed them. My mom always tried to talk me into submitting to art challenges in our homeschool group, or in my kid magazines. I never would. She practically forced me to take an art class in middle school. And lets be real, I wasn’t a prodigy, I wasn’t even close to being as good as my peers. But families are supposed to always think you are best. When ever I doubt myself, even now, I know I could just send me mom a drawing and instantly I’d be the most famous, awesomest artist ever. And thats a nice feeling.