Home from school and recovering from pneumonia, I was about seven years old—propped up on the pull-out couch in the living room, papers spread all around me. By afternoon, I had worked through the entire pad, exhilarated by the color explosion before me. Pastel dust settled across the bedsheets; smudges streaked my cheeks; both hands looked like I’d grabbed a fistful of rainbow. After that day, the treasured box of 64 crayons never felt sufficient again.
While my creative journey has taken paths my parents could never have imagined, they deserve credit for giving me both the materials and the mindset of “we can make that.” If it involved wood, cloth, or paper, our family would find a way to build it. Recently, as I unearthed those same pastel boxes while helping my parents move into assisted living, I was reminded of the world that opened to me that day—and the gratitude I still feel for it.
Formal study led to a B.A. in Fine Arts, followed by education in the real world: from gallery work and artist residencies to after-school art instruction, parenting, and simply painting every day. Durango has been home for three decades now—fifteen of those years spent creating in my studio at The Smiley Building.
~ Becca ~
