How can I tell my story? I will begin at the beginning, and slowly stretch it out day by day, little by little, the same way life is given to us.
When I was a little girl I used to make cards for my family out of 3" x 5" cards "borrowed" from my mom's recipe box. (Remember recipe boxes?) Anyway, on the back of the card I would write heidimark - kind of like Hallmark, you know? (I fancied myself rather accomplished, I suppose.) I would cut and paste and color and piece paper together until I finally had created what I had imagined. This could take hours, of course. But, for me, these were blissful hours filled with possibility. And as long as I was planning and crafting and creating, I was at peace because I was, in those moments, the most "Heidi" I could be. I felt most like myself, and do still, in moments of discovery and creation. It is not what I do, it is who I am and who I was born to be.
My parents encouraged my creativity. They sent me to special art classes at the San Diego Museum of Art, provided me with lots of materials and resources to work with, made it a point to introduce me to their artist friends and familiarized me with famous works through their larger-than-average collection of art books, as well as some wonderful oil paintings in their home. I spent a good deal of my time in the ceramics room during high school, and always kept a sketchbook.
If it sounds like I was given the stuff to launch a huge art career, that is probably true - if only I had been that focused at the young age when I had the world at my feet. (At least it feels that way now, looking back.) But I was a pretty typical teenager in that I was distracted by boys and music and dreams for life. And I wanted to find my own way, not follow the path laid out for me by my parents.
I did earn my B.A. in Visual Art and my M.Ed. from the University of San Diego and then went on to teach art (after a few years working in finance) at the School for Creative and Performing Arts at Chula Vista High School. I really enjoyed teaching art and getting my hands dirty with paint and clay and oil pastels and ink every day, especially after those dry years working in the financial office setting. And although my students were the best any teacher could ask for, something was missing. Somehow, I never found enough time to devote to my own art work. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, I got a little lost.
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