Blog

As a third grader, I had a desk with a hinged, lifting lid that was easy to enter and find the contents. Unless it was messy. When in disarray, I used my head to hold up the lid as I searched. My desk was dumped a time or two, my teacher's solution, so I could clean. My cupboard cleaning method today: empty all contents, organize, put away. Third grade me spends many days perfecting my drawings of Snoopy, lying flat on his back on his red doghouse, trying to place the wood knots just so. How excited I feel when I finally make Woodstock believable with tiny quote marks signifying his conversation. Not sure why looseleaf paper is my choice to draw on - likely pulled out of the desk when my other work is done. Some drawings turn into mixed media via the family typewriter adding captions. Though it really wasn't the family typewriter, I was allowed to use it. How much fun I had playing office as a kid, spending many hours at my grandma's desk. Yet I don't remember any interest of becoming a secretary when I grew up, the common trajectory for females when I was young. A friend has her sights set on working for a high-level executive, having a cool, modern office filled with chrome. Years later running into her, we catch up and I find her dream fulfilled.

My drawings would never be mistaken for Charles M Schulz's, but I enjoyed making them, never realizing I was committing art plagiarism. My nine-year-old self didn't know any better. Fifty years later I love painting sunsets and luckily there is no way to plagiarize a sunset. Each painting turns out differently, and sometimes even differently than my plan, just like the nightly changes we witness each night on the patio. The colorways amaze me every time. I hope you enjoy.