I was a strange and serious little kid who loved the smell of crayons, who ate play dough (once) and started creating as soon as I could hold a pencil and work a pair of scissors. I learned to read when I was 3 or 4 (thank you Sesame Street) and fell in love with books, and stories about little people living in spaces in the walls of a big house. My idols were Mr. Rogers and Jim Henson.
When I was five my grandfather declared me an artist, I had no idea what that meant at the time but it sounded like something that would itch or keep me from learning to swim.
I've had many incarnations, I started "adulthood" as a young wife and mother, then I went to nursing school, dropped out and became a surgical technician in Labor and Delivery. I would later become a volunteer firefighter, a family health advocate, then return to college and study art. I would lose a daughter, fall apart, and work through my grief by honoring her and opening a little store filled with all handmade artsy things she would have loved. I then had my last baby (late in life) closed my store to be home with him. I can't sit still long so I celebrated his homecoming by illustrating a little book about his journey.
I was asked by a friend one day to make her a particular doll, I didn't think I could, it wasn't something I knew much about but I bought the supplies and taught myself. The doll was awful, but she loved it. I wanted to try to do it better so I gave it another shot, and started falling in love with the art form.
I still write, illustrate, and make all kinds of things because it's just who I am, my grandfather was right I am an artist (and it is a little itchy). No matter where art takes me I will continue making babies because they help people hold onto hope, connect with lost memories, heal grief and loneliness, calm and comfort, bring joy and happiness.
You never know where you are going to travel or land but when you look back it all kinda makes sense and things find a way to come full circle.
I love my job.