My first drawing found
The big news this month is that I’ve been moving my studio! Thankfully, not too far away… just to another space in the same building. But as anyone who has ever moved knows, it became the perfect excuse for a deep dive into years of accumulated treasures, memories, and mysterious envelopes. One of those envelopes turned out to hold something extraordinary: my very first drawing, saved by my Mom when I was only three years old. I had completely forgotten it existed. Seeing this tiny glimpse into the very beginning of my artistic journey was both hilarious and moving, and I couldn’t wait to share it with you.
By the fourth grade
From that very first drawing, apparently, there was no stopping me. By fourth grade, I must have shown enough promise to be selected for the Tam O’Shanter Drawing Classes at the start of fifth grade, taught by Mr. Fitzpatrick at the Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh’s art museum. This was especially fortunate because my wonderfully musical family was still holding out hope that I would someday fall in love with playing the piano. Unfortunately, after years of lessons, my piano career was clearly not heading toward Carnegie Hall. I dreaded those Saturday morning lessons and made painfully slow progress. So when I was finally given the option to trade piano keys for pencils and attend drawing classes instead, it felt like freedom.
I continued to draw
I kept drawing through high school and eventually attended Carnegie Mellon’s Summer Art Program for young artists. For the first time, I was taking a college-level drawing course and spending time with other students who loved making art as much as I did. Beyond the classroom, it opened up an entirely new world for me culturally and creatively. Pittsburgh suddenly felt larger, more exciting, and full of possibilities.
Then came college
Then came college at West Virginia University, where I earned my BA in Fine Arts. Oddly enough, I saved very little actual artwork from those undergraduate years. At the time, I was incredibly self-critical and often felt completely inadequate compared to everyone else. In several dramatic moments of artistic frustration, I destroyed much of my work. (Ah, the confidence of young artists.) Thankfully, this studio move has uncovered boxes of old slides that I still need to sort through. Remember slides? There may yet be evidence that those years actually happened. So while I can’t show you much from that period right now, perhaps some forgotten images are waiting to be rediscovered.
Maybe some day
Maybe someday I’ll share more stories about my artistic development, but for now, you know where it all began. If you visit my website, you’ll see where that journey has led me creatively today. And just so you know — I no longer destroy artwork simply because I think it falls short. These days, even the unsuccessful pieces get saved. They serve as reminders that not every artwork is meant to be a masterpiece. Some pieces exist to teach us something, to push us forward, and to help make the next work stronger. Occasionally, if we keep going long enough, a masterpiece may appear after all.