This a photo of me all dressed up at the awards ceremony for the art contest. Don’t laugh at the hair, I was in my Cowboy Junkies phase.

When I was in high school, I entered an art contest. I remember sitting on the floor upstairs, with all of my supplies and whatnots around me. I drew an owl flying over the moon, an image I had seen on one of my favorite novels then I just got all creative and free and had fun. I glued on fabric for the owl’s body. Did some pen and ink. Did some watercolor. Who knows what else, I don’t have the piece anymore. Then I entered it in the contest, sure that I would never win. Turns out, I won first place. But how did I feel about it? Embarassed and insecure, which galls me now thinking back. I didn’t think I deserved it. The other pieces in the contest were so much better than my amateurish, childish effort…why in the world did they ever place me first? At least that’s how I felt. and you know, I don’t think I’ve really done mixed media since. I mean not like that… all free and fun and devil may care. And it wasn’t a conscious thing, I’d forgotten all about that contest until I started hand sewing again. Even though I had the complete and utter support of my artistic parents, I did what a lot of people do, in a lot of different ways. I devalued my natural talents and yearned for what I didn’t have.
Well, screw that.
It’s on like Donkey Kong.

My first and still in progress mixed media piece that includes one of my photos printed on muslin then painted, stitched and fussed over for two weeks now.

This tree may never be done. That’s ok, cause I have enjoyed every minute of our love affair.