When I was in middle school, I had no interest in the arts at all, I was all about the sports and making sure I was doing my best in school, but when my sister (who was in high school and taking art classes), came home with projects and working on them at home, that's what started that small spark of interest in arts. I thought the she had it all, getting to get her hands dirty and being so focused and coming out with this amazing paintings, drawings, photographs, and ceramics. She had access to all the amazing colors, paints, pastels and charcoal. I had to admit, I was pretty jealous, because being younger and not careful, she didn’t allow me to touch her things.
Finally when I moved up to high school, I signed up for my first art class. My teacher, Bill Emley, taught me everything that I needed to know, shadows, shading, perspective, color, sculpting, and most importantly finding myself in the work I do. I always put myself down when drawing because I saw others doing so well that, I convinced myself that what I did was not enough. He taught us to be yourself and drawing the first thing that comes to our mind, and that where you start.
Drawing is very dear to me, drawing my fears, past, future, accomplishments, love, hate, and faith I have to it. It allows me to see where I have come from and where I need to be.
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