I grew up in the Midwest, the last child of a divorced mother. My mother was very brave, leaving a husband in the 1940’s was considered scandalous. She was incredibly talented. Each night I went to sleep with the sound of classical music coming from her piano. She read voraciously, but her first love was painting in oils. I didn’t appreciate her when I was young. I do now. She imparted to me her faith, her love of beauty in all forms, especially in art and literature.
I inherited some questionable habits from my mother also. Whenever she became depressed or disillusioned, we moved. She was very unstable. Fortunately, by the grace of God, I married a very stable, kind and encouraging man – my spouse for over 58 years.
Despite my lack of formal training, he encouraged me to continue with classes in art and especially Art History during the years when we were raising five young children. But, like my mother, I become easily distracted. I have dabbled in fabric arts like weaving, batik, tie dye, quilting, etc., as well as jewelry, sculpture, and many forms of painting, but never becoming expert in any of these things.
At this point in my life, I am learning to watercolor and some of my favorite subjects are my grandchildren.
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