Until the age of about ten or eleven, I wanted to be a painter. There is so much you can do on a blank page, or the creme colored walls in my parent’s laundry room. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I did not care in the slightest. It was absolute freedom at its best. My father still has one of the drawings I made in elementary school hanging in his studio. A vase full of strange flowers, full of vivid colors that move your eye across the copy paper borrowed from the teacher’s printer. At points, you can see the pencil lines used to draw out the form. For a long time, I thought he kept the picture because I was his daughter and it was his fatherly obligation to proudly display my work, no matter the caliber. It would travel with him from office to office, studio to studio. However, reflecting back on it, I think it probably is one of the best things I have ever made.
When I work in my studio today, I try to get to the same place I was when I made the drawing as a child. I am my best when act on instinct instead of thought, unabashedly making marks on the canvas, loom, or knitting machine. I believe creativity is derived from mistakes and originality is having enough knowledge and strength to take advantage of them. When you're a child and your innocence is still intact, there is no second guessing, there is no context to put yourself or your work in. When you are a child you just are.