I Am Artist

The art gene runs true and strong in my husband's family. Allan's father and his father's father were recognized talents in the field, as is Allan and his brother. That particular stream runs a bit more shallow in my family - only my mom and brother Steve can claim to have the artist's touch.

That is until I was forced encouraged by my peers to find my inner Martha Stewart. There's a bunch of girls at PUMP who are naturals at all things sponge painting, stamping, scrapbooking, and Michael's craft store. The first several years we were together for Mom's Group or a women's evening out, I would stare in misery at whatever craft project lay before us. The choices of patterns and colors and where to place the ribbon was always enough to send me into a cold sweat. I really don't enjoy the feeling of complete incompetence.

Fast forward to today...This crafty mama convert elaborately designs and creates cards and books, sketches in charcoal and pencil, paints ceramics (see photo - the bowl I brought home today), and can bravely and boldly (okay - maybe it's still timidly) declare myself "artist". So I raise my ceramic painted mug to my friends for encouraging me to stretch into a new and unknown world.