Most of my life I’ve allowed someone other than myself to drive my bus. One of my first jobs as a teenager was working in a Jewish cemetery. My mother thought it would be a good way to bankroll my school wardrobe. I had to bury a lady and ended up peeing my pants because I was so scared she might not be dead. I could only go up from there, and I did. I’ve also found Zen during my extensive search, I taught Yoga and was a Reiki healer. Let’s just say I’m very well rounded.
A common thread running throughout most of my careers and education was creativity. Every time I was able to be creative, I was happy, without creativity, I became miserable. Over the years I had several by chance encounters with artists, each time I would feel a rush of excitement in my heart. I ignored it because being an artist seemed unattainable, I didn’t have an art education and I honestly felt intimidated by “art speak”.
But then an event rocked me, the hospitalization of our beloved dog. As a way to process my brokenness I decided why not me? Why not now? So I did. Expressing my feelings through painting was life changing, and I haven’t looked back. And Rigby? With the courage of a warrior and the heart of a lion he’s fully recovered and right by my side.
The moment I first shared my paintings with a close friend, she said something like, “It’s like ahhhhhh,” as her hands were waving all around as if to say “it’s busy Angie”, as we laughed. “Yeah” I said, “Isn’t it great?” and we laughed some more. I had finally arrived and given myself permission to become what was in my heart. Each and every piece of art that I create teaches me something, I like to think of it as an exploration. The inspiration for my work is simple: nature and all she encompasses. My curiosities are vast, I approach painting playfully with a good sense of humor, which I really need when things go down the tubes.
And when I need a critique, I call my friend, she waves her arms and we laugh.
I aspire for my work to become a meaningful and joyful piece of your story.