It wasn't until I overheard my youngest child telling his friend that I was an "artist" that I gave it pause. As a young girl, there were drawing contests that were simply out of my league. My horses looked like a warped rectangle for a body and abrupt apendanges for the legs. Taking up a paintbrush to create a still life or pencil to sketch was again not where I had strengths. But there are many types of creativity and artistic expression. I was secretly pleased to know my young one had noticed that I sewed, knitted, designed gardens, painted, and scrapbooked. I worked in stained glass, refinished floors, doors, furniture and had needlepoint and crewel pieces I did as a young girl. I moved on to install cement and wood floors, and took to learning wall finishes out of the desire to know how to be more artistic.
I am beginning to appreciate that the "artistic product" that anyone creates is the result of our exposure, visual and mental history and how we put it into a physical world. Our product is a parallel and comparable world to how we become who we are as people. We have likes and dislikes based on experiences, good, bad and indifferent. What draws us to design, and color is as the saying goes, in the eye of the beholder. So enter if you please, and decide to take the parts you like and change them as you will!
Voila!
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