Ever since I was little, I knew I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. I wasn't sure how one became an artist, but that's what I wanted to do. I come from a family of art-inclined folks, and they were very encouraging when I expressed an interest in art. I can't remember a birthday or Christmas that went by and I didn't receive some sort of art-related gift. Painting was it for me. I loved the colors, the feel of the paint as it gripped the canvas.
When I was in highschool, I took art classes on the weekends and looked at art colleges. My father suggested that I get a B.A. rather than a B.F.A., so that's how I wound up attending Roanoke College. I enjoyed my time there and learned a lot in the way of self-discipline and scheduling time for art. I also was introduced to my second passion: clay. Man, I love that stuff. I love that it has a will of it's own, that it offers resistance. Paint doesn't fight you the way 10 pounds of clay will.
So the challenge I have now is how to incorporate both clay and paint.
It's a challenge I look forward to facing (after our move--I'm not hauling a couple hundred pounds of raw clay 2,000 miles).
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