I started doing drawings on typing paper, whereupon my partner at the time said, “I did not know you could do that”. With encouragement from her I decided to take a couple of Art classes for the mature student – ‘no previous experience or ability required’ - at the Ontario College of Art and Design. My first class was figure drawing. Emboldened with some simple instructions - by way of a lecture - admonishing one not to make comparisons between your and others work - since everyone was different and was that not the point anyway? – I proceeded. Armed with a chunk of charcoal, faced with the largest piece of paper I had ever seen, off the deep end I went. During the first class break I found a quiet spot and wept, first with joy and then anger. Joyful to have arrived in a magical place, where I felt I belonged, angry because it had been hidden for so long. Before me lay a wonderful gift, an entirely new language, always there, but never expressed. I had found my place in the world. Within a year I became a full time student at the Ontario College of Art and Design, graduating four years later with honours.

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