|Posted by Jami Lord on January 19, 2012 at 5:50 PM|
My mom told me that as a small child I would watch her painting, patiently, while sitting on the counter top. I believe that those moments in time shaped me to be the artist that I am today.
She always gave me encouragement. Telling me to keep at it. Or giving me instructions on how to do bubble letters or how to draw an object. Mom was my first art instructor and my favorite by far. Of course there were times when she gave me constructive criticism. She taught me not shed tears when the client says that something just isn’t right. It has taken many years for my skin to thicken to the point it is today, but I will always be thankful to her for those first few tears that I had to painfully shed.
I remember in high school I started to push my talents in art class. It was so much fun and all I wanted to do was to draw. One evening I came out of my room with a drawing I had done of Jim Morrison and she could not believe her eyes. I think at that moment she knew what I was going to be when I grew up.
Lori Ann, my mom grew up to be an artist as well. She was always creating as a child and then pursued a life of creativity when us kids were small. But one day she put all of her paints into a box, tucked them far back into the closet and focused on raising us kids and keeping a happy home. She made us homemade clothes, taught us to be thrifty and most of all to be nice. Then we left the nest and all was quiet.
After college I traveled around the US for a few years. I was living life and enjoying being creative on the side. It was nice. I moved close to home just about the same time as Mom retired from her role of Head of the Paint Department at Home Hardware. A week later she fell ill with polymialga. This disease was a monster that ate at her from the inside out. For many years we watched her suffer with pain and yet she stayed positive and determined to beat the thing. At some point during the illness something began to whisper in her ear. She heard the sound of those old paints tucked back in the closet. She hauled the box out and with one brush stroke to the next she began to remember what was hidden so deep inside, the artist within She painted and then she drew and then she painted some more. With the watchful eye of our neighbor artist Bob, she perfected her skills and began once again feel confident in her work.
Then the jewelry bug bit! She got hooked literally on making earrings, necklaces, bracelets and bangles. Mom and Dad would go camping in the summer and she would sell her wares right off the picnic table, paying for their stay at the park all the while! She got into going to fairs and making a name for herself. She was having so much fun! It wasn’t long afterwards that her “poly” left her. I think it had to do with finding happiness in her art/heart. She is complete when she creates. I think that the “poly” was feeding off of the emptiness created by the lack of creating. She over came that monster and has never looked back. She is a completely self taught artist and she is my biggest inspiration. Thank-you Mom!