I can remember
receiving my first easel and a wonderful box of colorful pastels from my
father. An enormous sketch pad, bigger than an eight year old, came
with this delightful package. I was ready! Now, my dream of
becoming an artist was real.
If I didn't have
paper, I usually found something in the house to paint on
with my watercolors. The bedroom mirror was a hot spot
for me. Watercolors wash right off ! Once, I painted on the front
of a perfectly good guitar. My mother was definitely not happy
about that. I even painted on my little sister. Just a small tattoo
on her stomach.........a rose......which looked more like a butterfly
and disappeared just as quickly. As a teenager, I worked
part-time after school. Saved some money to buy myself canvases and
oil paints. They would smell up the house, make everybody dizzy,
and they took forever to dry. Mom would hang some of my work
around the house. I felt so proud. Later on, I discovered
acrylics. Didn't have to fight with them, the way I had to fight with
watercolors. Too many times I watched in horror the sides of the
paper curl up. Watercolor and paper are a very fickle
pair. In college, I had an art exhibit. A very exciting time. I
even sold one painting..................it really was a rough
sketch. Worked in Germany for a Baroness. Her family had quite a
collection of abstract art. Went on to live and work in Okinawa,
Japan. Spent almost six years there teaching English. It is
fascinating how people can communicate. Drawing pictures came in
handy.
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