As a little girl, I knew I was an artist, and looking back at it now, it feels like I was born with the desire to create. It felt right, and I never (not once) considered another path forward. With a sketchbook carried around like a lifeline, I spent time drawing from observation, but also things from my imagination. After college, I moved in with my now husband, worked a regular nine-to-five job to pay the bills, and still considered myself an artist even though it wasn’t something I could afford to do full time. In our little apartment, I painted in the corner of the living room, participated in art fairs, and shared my work wherever I found the opportunity to do so. A few years later, we married and moved into our first house… There we became a family, I quit my nine-to-five, and from the dining room table I made art. I still participated in art fairs, donated my work to good causes, showed my work publicly for the first time, and sold my paintings online.
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