• Memories of an Artist

    One of my earliest artsy moments was sitting at the kitchen table colouring with my mom. She carefully outlined the outside edge of her subject with her wax crayon, then made little circular motions until all the space was delicately filled in. I used to watch her in awe and think, “When I grow up I want to be an artist just like my mom” My mother unlatched the creative door of my mind and allowed me to explore all kinds of mediums and styles at a very young age. She never seemed to mind when I’d eagerly cut open the back of the cereal box to get the primitive water colour paint by…