Sometimes when a person has that first recognition of wanting to be an artist, usually sometime in youth, sometimes he (or she) begins to experiment with drawing, and if drawing comes readily that young artist will draw all the time.  Anything, anytime, anywhere.  I was not like that.  Drawing came with such difficulty.  I was constantly frustrated.  My ability appeared to wax and wane without a hint of causality.  I sometimes drew with enjoyment, but I was often disappointed too.  And silly girl that I was, in my disappointment I was lackadaisical regarding the remedy to the problem.  Drawing!

Not anymore.  Now no matter what, I just plow on.  If I cannot figure out how to do something, I am absolutely relentless about pursuing an answer.  And I cultivate whimsy, that very thing that might have helped my youthful frustrations.  I pursue difficult subjects, but I have fun too.  Sometimes I just move the pen.

I wish I had learned to do this sooner — and so now I relentlessly pursue whimsy.  Making up for lost time ….

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