On tests, when you choose what the flattened box would look like if it were folded… I am a whiz, but that doesn’t churn up much excitement at a cocktail party. 

Meanwhile, I took art history and painted stacked up furniture at university.  I was Picture Lady at my children’s schools and sprayed-painted my way through festivals.  Still, the space over my mantel was empty.

Then my husband surprised me with art classes with Keith Klein in Florence, KY.  Several years later, Keith suggested I stop giving away my art.  It seems my eyes had been opened.  The patient encouragement and direction of the master artist has allowed me to not only fill the space over the mantel but alter my life.

Stuck in traffic, I mentally reproduce the sky overhead with strokes of color.  Waiting in line at the bank, I determine how the highlights and shadows make the teller’s hair flow.  Every forest is a conglomeration of compositions.  The spray of plunging waterfalls commands that I paint them… so I do.  Now, there is little time left for cocktail parties.