I
didn't show any particular talent for art when I was in
primary school. I did however make things at home out
of cardboard and sellotape. I would write and sew clothes
for my doll. I didn't know any
other children who did this so I just assumed it wasn't
important enough to be validated.
I then went to secondary school when I was twelve. In
my very first art class we were told to find a flower
or something to draw from the playground. I found a small
pink flower head with bigger green leaves. It was just
a weed. However to my amazement when I put the flower
in front of me and picked up a pencil to copy it, I found
I could draw. I don't remember experiencing any joy or
excitement at the discovery. I have still to discover
taking the pain out of creating. The angst and critical
gremlin that sits on my shoulder is off-putting.
I gave up art for eight years and tried different things.
However I ended up coming full circle because I found
there is nothing else I am naturally skilled to do.
I decided if I was going to re-enter my career as an artist,
things had to be different. I found a very positive watercolour
teacher. When I had learnt as much as I could I found
a studio and find that a bigger studio complex, where
there is an abundance of support and contact, is exactly
what I need.
