I always had the dream of becoming a writer, never suspecting that writing would turn out to look like a piece of art. In all the world, we could never expect, in our own thoughts or actions what God has in store for us, or what they will look like, and how our gifts will touch the world. I am no scholar, yet I have adore for books. I loved the library. And when I was young, focus was a huge demon in my life. I had a lack of comprehension, unless it was a story I wanted to know or hear. I had a learning disability but, it went into remission when I had the right teacher. Truth be told I loved to learn, soon enough I discovered there were ways I could express my self, other than in black and white, or with pen & paper, and that was art for me. My first art teacher was a bore, I found that I had to drag any kind of art expression out of my self, as if I was dragging a dead animal behind my back. I thought, Was I lazy? or uninspired. How do I get out of this fog and into the program? I was then introduced to high school graduation. For me college came later. Real world business was first, wake up time, and my first job. I was behind a desk in a Manhattan office on Sixth Ave. and Forty First St. right next to Forty Second Street, a real mess in 1979. It was directly across from the public library. Bliss, yet chaos, all around it, and what was the world was saying to me as a seventeen year old. It summed up the entire scene in one word, life. You chose! Years past and I still was yearning for the correct expression, one that gave me the ability to pour out into the world what it was I had inside. God Help! And then when I first found icons, I hear my instructor say, “We write icons”. I was surprised but happy. Learning, knowing, not caring, that there are arguments now of whether we write or paint icons. We are writing the word, putting it into a color format, expressing our love of God and presenting it to the world, through an unique work that is art. This is fantastic!
I am a writer.