Pick Your Friends Carefully

Cat on the Moon

I remember, about the age of 4, drawing a huge, detailed picture of George Washington cutting down the cherry tree. I remember the reaction of my parents to what their 4 year old daughter drawn on her chalkboard. From then til adulthood, I was constantly drawing. In high school, I was an artist on the school paper. I learned to draw by copying cartoons from Mad Magazine[I was a big Jack Davis fan, and can still spot his work to this day}, and copying animal illustrations from library books. When I wasn't drawing, I was reading. Books, paper, and pencils were my favorite things in the world. Then adulthood intruded, kids, work, housework, and I laid down my pencil. Now I'm in my 50's, and have not only picked up the pencil again, I've also picked up a paintbrush for purposes other than painting walls!  I've always been a huge Halloween nut, and 2 years ago I decided to combine my love of the quirky holiday with my love of quirky characters, and I mainly do Halloween art. I  do a little Christmas work, and a little non-holiday work sometimes, but my heart belongs to Halloween illustrations. In the last year, I've also tried my hand at clay sculpting, and I think I'm pretty good at it. I love to sculpt and paint, what else, witches.

I'm a fortunate person. I have a wonderful husband of 31 years, 2 kids, a great love of animals both domestic and wild, and a little lake cottage surrounded by trees, Not a bad life. My love of art and creating quirkly characters and quirkly scenes is the icing on the cake. When a family member picks up something I've painted or sculpted, and gives a big ol' bellylaugh, or smiles gently and asks, "how do you do this??", it's like oxygen to me. I need it to live. I'm proud of my work, and I delight in knowing something I've created is going into the home of someone I've never even met. It's a real rush, and it never gets old. When I tell people I do Halloween art, I get funny looks sometime. I don't care. I'm thankful for this delightful weirdness that fills my life each and every day. The occasional day when I don't pick up a brush or some clay just makes me even more anxious to get back to work. This is a strange gift, but make no mistake, a gift is exactly what it is.