How I Turned into an Artist

Painting came to me when I was 50, and not a day goes by without my heartfelt gratitude that painting found me, and found me when it did.

As a girl, I’d drawn pictures of horses. As an adult, I’d doodled. I learned to make pottery, I have done my share of beading, I’ve taken thousands of photographs, and of course, I’ve written.

But I’d never really painted, and as an adult, never really drawn.

So when, three months after my mother died, I was struck by the idea of making a painting of our dogs to give to my husband, the typical thing would have been for me to say – I can’t draw, I can’t paint, it’s a good idea but I’ll get someone else to do it.

Instead, broken and bereft from my mother’s death, I said OK.

I got paint, I got a couple brushes, I got what I now recognize is a huge canvas, and I began to paint.

From the moment my brush touched the surface, I knew that I had found my life’s passion. I loved it. And my painting was really, really good — so good, I couldn’t believe I had made it.

So I continued to paint. When my boss, who also was a dear friend of mine, died of a heart attack six months after my mother's death, I painted. When, four months later, the job I thought I’d have for the rest of my life was eliminated, I painted. When flooding threatened our home in New York, when we had to uproot ourselves to move back home, when I accepted a job that just didn’t fit me at all, I painted.

And when I quit that job, I painted.

I took a drawing class somewhere in there. I took a painting class. But mostly, I painted. For nearly two years, I finished a painting every day.

I started a blog, The Accidental Artist, and posted my new paintings there. I started a website. I entered shows; the first year, every show I entered accepted my work.

I found galleries, I found restaurants, I found banks and doctors’ offices and hospitals that would let me show my work. I pestered my friends and my family, and they bought pieces.

And then, strangers began to buy pieces, too.

In time, I started to show and sell at events like the Mystic Outdoor Art Festival, coming up this weekend.

So when you find yourself wishing that you could draw, or you could paint, why not give it a try? You might find you have skill and passion you never dreamed you’d possess.

Later this morning, look for a column about how you get into a show like Mystic. This afternoon, look for a column about what goes on inside a show like Mystic.

At the Mystic Outdoor Art Festival, look for Patch in the information booth at Bank Square Books, where you can sign up for the online newsletter, and look for for Patchers out and about in the crowds, handing out bubbles and tattoos.

To see more of my work, visit my blog or website. And come see me at the show. I’ll be at the corner of Willow and Main, across from the post office.