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| Parked across from 43 Fernwood Pk. Ave. |
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| 1958: I was learning to drive; took out the muffler on a country road. Fiance kept his cool. |
I was raised Anglican in a working
class family, in Leicester (sounds like Lester); the industrial midlands of England. My parents emigrated to Toronto
in '57. I'm the oldest of three children; two girls and a boy
My creative spark was
lit around 6yrs old. I was confined to my room with Scarlet Fever; as the story goes, mom kept me there and away
from my little brother, by encouraging me to draw on the walls.
My only formal art training was at night-school; twice a week, while my kid sister babysat my
two pre-school sons. Fred Winterbottom, teaching "Still Life Drawing & Painting," at Toronto's Danforth
Tech. in '63-64 was the quantum leap I needed to train my eye to learn from the technique
of others.
The writing mostly came later; though I dabbled in story telling at l5, but mostly
I devoured books. Being a single mother wasn't part of my education; finding myself so, thrust me
into a quest for truth; learning and reading went hand in hand for me. In the early 70's this led to writing poetry,
and when the words seemed inadequate I'd do a picture.
The mid 60's-mid 70's was my most productive period. In '72 I was hired
for the summer to teach arts and crafts, at an LIP grant funded drop in center in Alliston, Ont. It was
a turning point. When it was over we returned to the city: my brother, who had been on staff too, got a bank
loan to open a shop at Queen & Beech. He could only get a thousand dollars, but it allowed me to run a glorified
junk shop for two years. Then I had to get my kid away from the city, and go find myself.
For two of the four years we spent on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia,
we homesteaded in a hundred year old house. Getting back to the land, as many discovered on those popular reality shows,
doesn't leave much time to be creative. I did write some, and managed to do a few pictures, but I certainly couldn't
make a living selling paintings to tourists as I had planned.
The working life back in the city was no easier to establish an art career as a single woman.
It wasn't until the stress caught up with me and took me out of the running that I had the time to try. For a year or
more my brother kept me pretty busy doing portraits for him. He also snapped up the acrylic experiments before anyone
else saw them.
After my conversion I was thrown for a loop when I read what God said about not making graven
images. My creative expression found an outlet in writing, and reviving the art of Illustrated Manuscripts. You
can see them in my Gallery-Workshop, with some other pictures from my archive.
Now I have a computer, and a partly edited manuscript for a book; plus I'm focused on building
webpages, to put my life's work to some practical use. In the Gallery-Workshop I am using my art to help others learn
how to draw. Working from home, through cyberspace, is just about my speed now.
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