Finding my way home

Most people who know me know that I started out for years as a musician, playing the piano and french horn. It was what I planned to do for the rest of my life. Hours of orchestra rehearsal did not bother me. I felt like I belonged when I was with fellow musicians. Then of course with all the foresight a teenager usually has, I cast it aside and took a Bachelor of Arts so that I could follow a boyfriend to Ontario. Naturally the boyfriend and I have long since parted ways. It was during my first degree that I started to develop a longing to be painting, drawing and creating. I had always wanted to paint, but when I had the brush in hand I had no idea how to use it, how to mix color, how to show value. My work was awful. I finally took the plunge and signed up for some lessons, and the rest, as they say, is history. Two more degrees later and I dare to call myself an artist. The problem is focusing. I tried clay, then added that to what I did. Then I started wih jewellery classes, and the next thing I knew I had a torch and a jewellers saw. Finally it was fibre, and I am hooked to that. As many of us know though, life often comes full circle. Last night I started painting again. It's not that I ever really stopped, it's just that I lost my focus. Last night I took the bold step of pulling out some oils and ended up staying up late and painting most of a portrait. I have a strong urge at this stage to do portrait work, so no one is going to be safe around me. I want to paint women doing everyday things. I am planning to do a self portrait of myself knitting. I have decided to leave the clay and jewellery behind and focus on my fibre and painting now, and hopefully I'll stay in this place. I am feeling the fire again.