Once Upon a Time…

Hi friends,

I’d like to tell you how I got here before I get into other stories—and by “here,” I mean how I became a professional artist.

I was living with regret and depression. I had two small kids, a husband, and we all lived in the rainy suburbs of Oregon. My husband had a spectacular career at Nike, living his best life every day and I resented it. I was a stay-at-home mom, taking care of everyone. My life felt like the movie Groundhog Day: the same thing every day, and I felt like a loser. I loved playing with my kids, but I detested everything else.

I never followed my heart when it came to my career. I did what my dad told me: “Whatever you do, never become an artist; you’ll STARVE.” Honestly, I never met a female working artist and I never even thought to doubt what my Dad told me. I tried going to college a few times when I was younger—first to be a teacher, and then to be a lawyer. What a nightmare! I felt like a wild animal in a cage. I worked as a teacher, then as a translator, and finally as a stay-at-home mom. I envied women with careers and drooled over surrealism books. It felt like an art career was “the one that got away.”

As my marriage started crumbling, I decided to take an art class. When I tell you that I came alive in that class and felt like I was finally breathing, I’m not exaggerating. After that class, I decided to change my life. I had an awakening. I decided to put myself first. How could I be a good mom if I was depressed and had no purpose? What kind of example was I setting for my kids? I decided to go full blast into Art College, all day, every day. In my first class ever, we sat around a pile of cubes and spheres and were to draw them. There were about 20 students in that class; I was surrounded by artists, and I felt I was finally HOME.

After I graduated, I started my shop and began posting on social media. It felt like when I was a little girl making drawings that kids at school would buy from me or trade for their Hello Kitty stuff. Art has always been my passion, my purpose, my love. Do I regret not having started sooner? I wish I had, but then again, would my art be the same?

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Halloween is my Roman Empire