Lifelong Passion

For as long as I can recall I've had an undying love for the arts. When I was little I could, and did, spend hours illustrating my dreams as well as my reality. The twin sister to my love for art was my love for writing. I wrote pages, chapters even, of stories about my adventures to the Planet Schlemiel and the childhood romance of a boy named Paul Bryant Thacker. Each exciting tale was not without colorful and elaborate illustrations. Writing allowed me to escape into the endless expanse of my imagination, to gallivant through a jungle with my trustee talking dog, to tour an extravagant candy palace, to fly.

In school, I drew so much that I sometimes got in trouble for not paying attention. Thus, art class was my favorite time of day. In 6th grade, we learned how to draw perspective with the classic "telephone poles along the side of a road" picture. Upon inspection of my drawing, Mrs. Hutchinson told me, "You have a gift," which filled me with pride and further excitement for my passion.

In junior high I explored another facet of my artistic passion: singing. My ninth grade year afforded me the opportunity to be in the school musical, The Music Man, as a towns-person. I was a timid singer, not usually allowing my voice to carry beyond the secluded sanctuary of my bedroom, where I'd record radio shows into my parent's old tape recorder. I remember going to each and every high school concert of my older siblings, applauding with pride at the ease of their vocals and the grace of their choreography, wanting to be on that stage one day.

High school came and with it the opportunity to chase my dream. I enrolled in vocal lessons and began the journey to overcoming my fear of solo performance. My teacher, Mrs. McKay was an opera singer with a love for classical music and really high notes. She introduced me to "O Mio Babbino", "La Wally" and countless other arias, encouraging me to perform them in my choir class at every given chance. I did with reluctance. In time reluctance turned to enjoyment and I was accepted into two auditioned show choirs the following years, to my elation.

Then, to my further elation and surprise (terror really), I was blessed with the opportunity to play Belladova in Maury Yeston's Phantom, the school musical. It was one of the most intimidating and fantastic experiences of my life thus far. I have never enjoyed solo performance as much as I did at that time.

Upon entering my college years, my love for this broad horizon of "The Arts" left me at a fork in the road with a difficult decision, "Which one?!" I explored an English major in hopes of aspiring to be an author of fiction novels or children's books. No dice.

Then, as I was looking over my general education requirements I came across a Non-Major Drawing course, which would fill a Fine Arts credit. I was delighted to rediscover what I had left on the back-burner for so long, but only for fun...I thought. I picked up that 2B Faber Castelle graphite pencil and once again felt the warm and welcoming embrace of art...and I hugged it right back. I believe if art were a man, we'd be married. That was a joyous reunion.

I am the witness and grateful by-product of two-decade's shaping and molding a dream into a reality. I am the proud owner of my very own well-worn and deeply-appreciated niche: graphic design. That is not to say that I've finally come to the destination I've been pursuing my whole life. Oh no. Art is not a destination. Art is a journey.

"There's no retirement for an artist, it's your way of living, so there's no end to it."

~Henry Moore~