I still remember being about 10 years old and going to this little art shop in Burnsville, Minnesota not too far from my home town. The smell of paint and a class of just maybe 3 or 4 of us. My first scene was of trees and a river, very fitting to my personality (I love the woods).
I continued to paint and draw through high school and college, mostly self taught (a few classes in high school). In college, I would sell my art at the farmer’s market on Saturdays, which I mainly just ended up bartering for groceries, but the experience taught me a lot of interesting things about how people view artistry and experience art in the world around them. I’d sit there are paint while people walked by, it was a peaceful, sort of true feeling endeavor.
I didn’t go to art school. But, when I hear my friends, who did go to art school talk about their experiences, I am actually pretty thankful I just kept developing my skills on the side. It seems there is a lot of pressure to prove oneself, to get in the “right” gallery and to present the right image. I assure you, that none of them thought my farmer’s market side gig was something to be excited about. HA. But for me, it was perfect.
I create art now because I can’t not create it. Depending on the day, I come home and paint for hours at a time. Usually on my living room floor while binge watching a mini-series of some kind.
In this way, art is simple for me. I open the paint and I go. I get on a subject matter and stick with it for a while until the phase has run its course (music like music for me in this way). I go through phases of being obsessed with simple lines, colored pencils, charcoals, sharpies, shapes, and tape. What I’m creating pretty much depends on which years you catch me.
