Kunzite

One of the most common questions I get asked is "how long have you been drawing/doing art," and I think of the baby holding mom's pen mostly likely making wide circles on a sheet of paper that had to be important. I think of the mother that most likely grasped and directed me to something that wasn't the wall or another important document. The inside of book covers sound about right. It's not the answer I give, but it is the one I laugh to. So, I have been drawing for a long time, but I remember one very important moment in my life. There was this potato faced person on a thin sheet of lined paper a friend said was good. The smell of bus huff that was calling me to board so I could go to my nursing school. "I want to do better," came the musing though. I was 14. In a very real way, I was already well behind my other friends when it came to the craft. 

Teacher, mentors and professors all told me I don't have a natural knack for art. I'm not supernaturally gifted for learning or drafting. I would have to work twice or three times as hard as my (younger) peers. Man, did that hurt. But they where right. No shortcuts when it comes to this. I had to be bullheaded and refuse to give up.

I have to be grateful for my bullheadedness, despite the tears (don't you worry, there was plenty of blood too. Paper can be sharp!). My concerned parents and a caring God pulled me this far. The light praise of friends pulled me the rest of the way. 14 is well over half my life ago and I still look at these potato faced characters and say "I want to do better." At least now I feel I have the right to be proud of my work.