The earliest memory I have about creating art involves this red tin. Yup, a red Christmas cookie tin. I remember being around 4 years old, coloring while my Mom was tending to her patch amongst the never ending plots in our community’s garden. I never just colored in the images printed in the coloring books. I made patterns on shirts and drew clouds in the skies. Whenever I had free time, and wherever my parents took me, I always had my special red tin.
This red tin full of broken paper-peeled crayons kept me company wherever I went, and always brought me joy. When the newest and biggest box of Crayolas ended up in my red tin, well, that was the BEST DAY EVER. I loved crafts too, and as long as my parents could keep me in paper and art supplies, my imagination seemed endless.
I was in second grade when someone tried to burst my art-loving bubble. We were cutting out objects for a project when the teacher said I “cut like chicken.” True, my cut marks around the objects were jagged and messy. I was trying very hard to make it neater, but it’s almost impossible if you’re a lefty using a right-handed kid scissors! I remember trying to hold back tears, as this was possibly the meanest thing anyone could have said to me. She hurt my feelings, but I went home that afternoon and decided that she wouldn’t stop me from making art. From that day on, if someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, aside from the regular answers — ballerina, fireman, astronaut, rock star – I started to answer Artist.
When I got to high school, I started to figure out what it might mean to be an artist out in the real world. I took classes in graphic design, drawing, ceramics, and jewelry making. I even took my lunch/study in one of my art teacher’s rooms, so I could work on extra projects. I used my first MacIntosh computer as a sophomore, the first Mac Classic in the building. I joined the drama club with my art friends to help them with sets and backdrops. I started to see myself making art not just for fun, that maybe I could have fun and get paid for it one day.
My parents, who feared every living artist was a “starving one,” were not so keen on my choice pursue art as a career. My art teachers, who thought I would be very successful in art school, were at odds with my parents, who wanted me to go to a university so that if I changed my mind, I wouldn’t have to transfer to another school. We visited several colleges, and – since I was not allowed to apply to a stand-alone art school — I was most impressed with Syracuse’s School of Visual and Performing Arts. It was a compromise. However, I very much enjoyed attending the art school there. I majored in Communications Design, and had the full immersive art school experience I wanted. It was a really, really tough program. The best of the best high school artists were all there. Unlike me, most had taken private art lessons in addition to school art classes their whole lives. For the first time, art did not come easy to me and the critiques were harsher than ever. I felt like a walk on football player and started to doubt my talents and skills. So, I worked harder than ever before. My instructors pushed me, and my fellow peers encouraged me, and eventually, I felt like I belonged there.
Since graduation, I have been lucky to be paid for doing something I love. Along with my traditional skills as paper-based graphic designer, I was an early adopter of the Internet as an opportunity for design and was one of the first Internet Art Directors in the NYC advertising world.
Over the years, I have continued to carry my figurative “red tin” into other aspects of my life. I am contributing to my community by creating an elementary art appreciation course for my children’s schools, volunteering my skills for my town’s cultural arts projects, as well as creating fun crafts and projects for my home and family. Now that my children have grown and (almost) flown, I want to continue to evolve as an artist and create things that inspire me.
This new venture, my butterfly sculptural paintings, came from the isolation and desolation of the Covid pandemic. My town wanted to brighten up the downtown and get people outside to enjoy some fresh air and the creations of local artists. They sent out a call for submissions for a fiberglass butterfly exhibit. I was honored that my butterfly design was chosen as one of the thirty to be displayed.
I love Pop Art for its bright colors and fun patterns. Looking at these works always make me happy. I wanted my butterfly to just bring joy when anyone looked at it. I took cues from my favorite artists, added my love of graphic design, and put it all together to create something all my own. I was used to my art being in service of others, but the pandemic allowed me extra time to really look deep within and create something I felt expressed who I am right now.
After the two months the butterflies were displayed in downtown, a few were chosen to be auctioned to raise money for future public art projects. My butterfly, “Hearts in Flight,” generated the highest bid of all butterflies at the auction. I was elated, but also sad. I felt like a piece of my soul was sold to the highest bidder. I am glad this person truly wanted my art; it’s the highest compliment when someone wants something you have made. I am so glad that butterfly is in its new home, because it pushed me in a whole new direction. I realized that if this person liked my work enough to pay that much to have it, perhaps others would connect that way with my art as well.
Now when I look at my red tin, which still sits on my shelf all these years later, I imagine it overflowing with the joyful colors I have collected over my lifetime. I hope my art also sparks some “red tin” joy in you.
I promise not to bombard you and only to tell you about good things when they happen.