Pre-9/11, I’m on a tour bus with Willie Nelson. He tells a really great joke, and I instantly forget it. Of course, given the circumstances. Fast-forward: I’m pregnant with my second kid, then 49 years old, holding a nursing diploma.
Since high school, I ignored everyone who told me I should chase art, and instead I spent nearly 20 years in the music industry. In 2015, waiting to start a new nursing career, I picked up a paintbrush and went down a year-long rabbit hole.
These days I spend my professional hours helping people in addiction get their lives back. Painting happens when it can. When it does, I get lost in it — time stops, everything drops away. I should’ve started painting years ago, but I’ve helped a lot of people along the way, so I’ll call it even.
I’m primarily self-taught, painting everyday people doing ordinary things. I work by instinct more than by method, which means plenty of floundering and the occasional breakthrough. It’s not efficient, but it’s honest — and that’s usually enough.