“It was not until my father passed away that I realized art has always been the heart of my life. Growing up in Indiana, we took long "scenic drives." My father would spend hours quizzing us with trivia, like "Who painted with dots?" or "I wonder who painted ballerinas," or "Can you name the Renaissance Painters?" The trivia was endless as were the miles of cornfields we drove by. Little did I know the seed was planted.

As a child, I took art classes and won awards and contests. My mom just wanted my picture in the paper. Those were the days. We relocated to D.C. during middle school. Dad was a graphic artist in an advertising agency, and we moved a lot. Weekends were spent going to art museums, historical monuments, and driving around the White House in our hopes to see President Carter. My brother and sister would then say, "Museums, not again!" We just wanted to play Frogger on Atari, but my parents were in love with the idea of history, art, and education. 

From there, we moved to Connecticut–new art museums and more historical sites! Art continued filling my life. I lived in the art department at Hand High School in Madison. My teachers embraced my passion and encouraged me to think outside of the box. The seed is growing. I graduated from Hand High School with an art scholarship to Endicott College. I was lucky enough to be taught by Professor Broudo, my art angel. He took me under his wings and guided me like no other. I remember waking up at 6:00 AM, running to the art building to see if my pottery had come out of the kiln. He was standing at the door, arms crossed, and nodding...."now that's an inspired artist." Weekends were spent either painting the ocean scenes of Gloucester, taking a train into Boston and visiting the art museums, or making pottery and talking about art with Professor Broudo. Leaves are forming.