Looking back, I realize my creative life began with paper. I grew up in a small New England mill town with two brothers and five sisters. My father worked at the local paper mill and would often bring us home stacks or rolls of paper. It was always such a luxury this fresh clean paper! I loved the feel of it, the weight of it, the smell of it. It held the promise of something and I couldn’t wait to start drawing, cutting, pasting.
Throughout school I loved art class. Loved to draw, sketch, write, and sometimes got in trouble for doodling on my school papers. After high school I started out as an art major at the local community college. But I lost interest in studying art (probably lost interest in ‘study’ period for a time). Later I went to college for business, later still became a wife and mother and my artistic self went into hiding for many years.
Now and then, as years passed, I got out my art supplies and did some drawing or painting, but always put them away again. The idea of time and place for my 'art' self, just wasn't a priority. There was no room anyway in a busy household, and I didn’t think of myself as an artist. I thought of myself as a person who 'used to do' art things.
So here I am now. Mother of two post-college children, with a home and a job and all the stuff that turns days into months and months into years. And then, not long ago, something happened which brought me back to my creative self.
My daughter came home for Christmas vacation her last year of college. She brought with her a big stack of scrapbook paper. In between studying for exams she and her friends had taught themselves to fold origami boxes and Christmas ornaments. She didn’t have much money to spend on Christmas presents and so decided to give handmade ornaments instead. She came home with a paper cutter and a lovely stack of paper and showed me how to fold ornaments and boxes. It was so much fun. I couldn’t stop making them. There were so many different designs and ways to make the boxes different sizes, each one coming out like a perfect little piece of art! I went crazy – I was making boxes every spare moment. I had no idea what I was going to do with them all, but kept making them. It felt creative, relaxing.
And just like that, paper brought me back to my creative self. Paper and the serendipity that my daughter brought to me. I soon found myself in the bookstore looking for books on variations on paper box making. In the same aisle I found books on making altered books which really intrigued me. And then books on collage. And then mixed media art. And then art journaling. I started looking through art and fabric stores for ideas. I bought gel pens, empty journal books, watercolor paints. I bought stamps and stamp pads, acrylic paints, more paper and some canvases. I began to sketch and draw. I read everything I could. I jotted down ideas in my journal. I found the magazine
Cloth, Paper, Scissors and
Studios. And then all the other
Stampington mags. I found websites of other artists. I bought some instructional videos on art techniques. I discovered
water soluble crayons! (how yummy are these to play with?) Creativity and art came back full force into my life.
I had no permanent space to do my art yet – so there was lots of getting out and putting away. But little by little I continued to find my way back to creativeness, back to art, and back to myself. I became determined that art, my art, was going to be a consistent part of my life now. I need to find the time and I will create the space.
My studio
And now I have. And so my art journey begins (again).
