DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR FIRST SENSE OF DESTINY? I remember being a very small child watching my dad paint his large oils on board paintings. I also remember taking up a pencil and eventually watercolors and making my own art while he made his. Then I remember just drawing and painting whenever I had the chance. It was my peace. My meditation. My space. My solitude. I also remember people, such as teachers, saying to me, "That's not how you do it!" I always broke the rules of art. I wasn't interested in conformity or convention. I painted what i wanted to in a way that felt good to me. Then, I remember graduating from high school and so many people writing in my year book, "One day I'm going to hear you on the radio!" Or "You're going to be famous one day!" Or, "You're art's going to be known around the world." Ya right... I thought. I also remember my grade 13 art teacher (yes we had grade 13 in Ontario, Canada at that time) looking at my art, then looking at me, then looking at my art, then looking at me, and somehow silently communicating to me that even though my art was different... I think she liked it. For instance, one day she took us outside for us to sketch something. I chose a long loose piece of toilet paper I found in the woods. I used a blue pencil and shaded its twisting shape through the grass. She gave me that look... like... This is weird... but this is good. Then what did I do? The righteous thing! I went into theology. It was many years later when I found my way back to my art. Now it's informed by my theology, spirituality, philosophy... all that. And I have no regrets. But my oh my did I choose the long path or what? So... something that emerged early in my life eventually bore fruit. Because now I call myself an artist. How about you? Do you remember an early sign of what your passion was? |