Sketchbook vol.1

When I was little, I used to rollerblade in my basement with my best friend, Brice. The floor was cement and the whole level wasn't finished so we'd rollerblade and have fun. It was sort of our job. Brice and I had lunch at this lovely vegan cafe on Lyndale over Christmas after five years of ships passing in the night. It was like we hadn't skipped a beat.

Anyways, Brice asked me if I remembered playing down there and how we'd spin an old globe and stop it with our fingers - where ever it landed, we would live when we grew up. Not surprisingly, we both studied anthropology in college and have grown up to be world travelers.

After that, we'd talk about what we wanted to be - when I was four it was "ice cream truck driver, because they get free ice cream" and "an artist" because "I could live in France and be just like Da Vinci" but by the time Brice and I were 4th grade friends, it was "lawyer or doctor" because I had no artistic talent and I was too afraid to try. None of my paintings in art class EVER turned out and my portraits were pretty standard material - almond eyes, pig noses and straw hair. But I'd always spend hours pouring over my moms art books, Norman Rockwell paintings and tracing "how to draw..." figures.

I finally found a little inspiration in scrapbooking and writing. Along with my journals, I'd sketch pictures of the landscape - nothing genius, but I learned to love what I drew because it was for me - and at least I could pretend I was good :)

Then came sewing and the whole DIY movement, photoshop, confidence and Pinterest - I'm not afraid to try and Da Vinci isn't my standard anymore (I always did aim high). Now I see all sorts of art of all manners and styles - so scribbles can be lovely and typography is art.

I just needed to find my medium and own it. People say they're not creative, and all I have to add is ...."yet".