

Set up for that first weekend show was a valiant struggle - my tent of course being the wrong color (blue) than everyone else, and I ridiculously brought along too many tables. I was flummoxed.











Once an artist, always an artist. And so it ultimately began, when most things such as this did, during the start of the pandemic. It was then I eventually found the energy to fill my days with something I’ve always wanted to do for a very long time – but never made time for. I began to make art. Now to be clear, I’ve always defined myself as an artist. I’ve been freelancing as a web and graphic designer for the majority of my adult life since the late 90s. Design brings me a great deal of satisfaction – all my graphics, website and online presence is maintained by me – as are more than a few small & large websites I count as clients. But back to the art – true art is an inception, a seed that forms in the mind and asks to be born. The only task is the artist must believe in herself enough to nurture that seed – and create something from an idea, a thought, an inspiration. Sounds great in theory. In actuality the hardest part was to take that first initial step - and put my art out there with a price and a courageous belief it would maybe sell. And after it at first didn't sell, to keep trying, and trying some more even after that. There was a great deal of hope involved during those initial stages.