I started enjoying drawing at a very early age. In order to keep me quiet and happy in church, my mom would allow me to bring paper and drawing supplies to church in a little plastic box. Of course I wasn’t very good at it then. Stick figure backgrounds and characters that were more detailed than stick figures but hardly good looking either. Characters half inflated on a page. A very typical children’s drawing.

I discovered my first real technique in 6th grade. Of course it was manga style. I spied the work of a classmate in the style and was instantly fascinated. I wanted to do it too. I practiced and got reasonable at line work but my coloring was always amateur at best.

My skills really shone when I discovered realism in high school. I learned about charcoal pencil and absolutely adored it. It was so easy to shape it and blend in the exact way I wanted it to. Absolutely detested my high school art teacher for other reasons but, to her credit, she did expand my knowledge of art.

I further practiced technique in college but that is about when art started to get physically hard. My disability had progressed to the point where it was a huge ordeal. I wanted to draw and paint more, I really did. I hung onto all the painting and drawing supplies for several years even after it became impossible. Perhaps out of a faint hope I might get to use them again someday. Perhaps my circumstances would change. Eventually I relinquished them to my sister however. Someone who is a just as talented if not more as an artist. I’m not longer sad about this loss now. I still remember the journey and the feeling of success. I will continue to look back on it fondly and hold it in my heart to pass tips on to those just as interested.