I am an artist...there, I said it!

In 8th grade, I had a really awesome teacher. Mr. Spendlove. He was my geography teacher and he was exceptionally funny and very cool. What does that have to do with art, you ask. I will tell you.
We had some really fun assignments in Mr. S's class. My favorite was the farm game. I think it was a "45 years ago precursor to Farmville"-Somebody should have marketed it then! One assignment that I will always remember was our oral report on "what I want to be when I grow up"...job wise that is. I wanted to be an artist. I had no idea what an "artist" actually did, but I wanted to be one, so that is what I did my report on. I made a poster to go along with my report with some of my "artwork" displayed on it and the major points of artistic employ such as places you could work, hours-(as if there are set hours for that..pff) and yearly salary etc. I don't even know where I got these statistics. I don't think I would have been brave enough to pull them out of thin air but really, I don't know that I could pin those details down even today. I think that the only "artist" profession I knew about was a graphic artist. I could never be one- they have to be so precise- I am a fine artist and I can live in it'll do land- more mess and creativity there. Less rules and finesse. But how do you write a report on that? So I said I would be a graphic artist because at least it was in the encyclopedia. Any who, I really got into the oral part of this report. Talking a blue streak and I remember thinking this is terrific, I am unique, a stand out! Every other girl in the class was giving a report on being a nurse, a teacher, or and secretary. That's it. Those were our options. NOT ME!!! I refused to settle for the mundane. I would NEVER be a secretary! I even refused to take typing classes in high school (big mistake by the way! definitely should have re-thought that one) For some reason I have always wanted to be different. In high school when everyone else of the female persuasion wore jeans and cords I wore dresses. Other girls were in shorthand and business classes, I was in the photography dark room, graphics, and art classes. Good thing too- more on that later.
Back to 8th grade. I am humming along nicely with the class hanging on my every word, (probably because they were sick of nurses and secretaries.) At the end of the report you had to ask if there were any questions and hope like the dickens you could answer them. One kid asked if I really drew that picture or had I traced it. Well you moron, of course I drew it, I am an artist! It's quite possible he meant it as a complement but hey, we were in 8th grade and we weren't smart enough for that kind of subtle exchange yet. Then Mr. Spendlove raised his hand. "Oh this is going to be good," I thought. He is going to complement me on looking outside the box, or tell me that he fully expects me to be famous one day. But no. He asked me if artists needed to be able to spell. ??? ~Chirping of crickets~
"I assume so, yes," I answered, "why do you ask." Well that might be a bit of a stretch- I think I just stood there looking dazed and confused.
"You misspelled salaries on your poster."
I know Jr. High is a most regrettable period in most peoples lives. We tend to mentally block it all out. This I did not forget. This was an especially hard blow from my favorite teacher. And dang it- don't we all have our Achilles heal? Up to this point in my educational career spelling was my nemesis. Always has been, and always will be. I was actually quite good at math until 9th grade when Algebra knocked and the door closed on that and all subsequent mathematical subjects FOREVER. I do not have the ability to spell words correctly. I hated spelling tests- How the heck do you study for a spelling test. Or a math test? You have to have facts, people- cold hard ones that you could memorize, that mean something in context with something else- like science or history or English essays.- not just random letters or numbers in certain orders. I know now that this is the right brain left brain thing, but in school it just meant that I was an idiot at spelling and math.
I forgave Mr. S for for taking me to task. He was a teacher after all and I learned from that.
Obviously I never forgot that embarrassment in front of the entire class! And the best part of it is in spite of a spelling deficiency I AM AN ARTIST. I became what I wanted to become. It has taken me many years to actually be able to say that. I honestly didn't think of myself as an artist for a long time. I thought of it as a hobby as I sold originals for quite a few years- but still, when someone asked me what I did I would just say I am a stay at home mom. Truth be told, I NEVER imagined I could make a living as an artist. In high school I took the required courses for graduation but virtually all of my electives were art classes. I stubbornly clung to my statement that I would NOT be a secretary, much to my humiliation when I had to give in and take a beginner typing class to survive in University courses.
I had some great teachers! One in particular I will always be grateful for is Mr. James Stewart. I think I learned more from him than any teacher or artist I have studied with. I sincerely love him. I wish I could find him now and thank him. I have tried to find him but I am afraid he is long gone. I wonder if teachers ever know that they inspire us and give us the skills to build a life on. I believe they are undervalued and under paid!
I work for an art publisher in New York.
You can look them up online under www.galaxyofgraphics.com

Here are a few of my images-








( I find it somewhat ironic that "GRAPHICS" is part of their title! ) I have worked for them since 1990- that is 21 years. And somewhere in there I got the notion and the guts to say, I am an artist. It might have something to do with a monthly paycheck, but I think it has more to do with someone taking me seriously. People tell me they saw my artwork somewhere- in a hospital or a hotel lobby or a store. I see my artwork in magazines sometimes and once when Paige and I were watching a movie we saw one of my pieces on the wall behind the actor. It was pretty funny! We got all excited and screamy.
It must be said here that I believe that we have a loving, all knowing Father in Heaven who knows us and knows what we will need in our lives, and he guides us in those paths that will be of the most use to us. It is no coincidence that I chose the path I chose, even down to the attitude I took in school. I would have liked to be a teacher. I still may be some day. But God knew I wasn't a secretary. Maybe that is why I can't spell. Secretaries have got to be able to spell, don't they? And EVERYONE knows I could never be a nurse! Me and puking do not gel well! Just two weeks before Paige was born, Stewart was in a car accident that made it impossible for him to continue working. Soon after that, I found an advertisement for an art publisher. I sent some photos to them and the rest is history. Apart from a small disability payment, I have been the bread winner for our family for the past 20 years. God knew I would need those art classes. He even worked on my mother so she didn't protest my choice. I have to give her credit. I am sure she thought I was just taking goof off classes, but she let me do it. I kind of think I thought that too sometimes, like the time Mr. Stewart let us go rollerskating in the halls and we all got busted by the vice principal, including Mr. Stewart. He didn't get in too much trouble because art teachers were always thought of as a little off and rebellious.
I am an artist. Do you hear that Mr. Spendlove? Every time my spell check underlines a word in red, I try to correct it myself first, just for you. I am an artist. Every time I can say that with confidence, I say it for you, Mr. Stewart. I thank you form the bottom of my heart.
I...am an artist.