cre·a·tor

noun | cre·a·tor | \ krē-ˈā-tər \

a person or thing that brings something into existence.

Yup. That’s me. A creator. Of paintings, and drawings, photographs and tattoo designs. Of super messy kitchens, abundant desert gardens, emotional renditions of tremendous songs. Of sculptures, bookshelves, and light fixtures. Where did I learn all that stuff?

Since I was home-schooled, it was members of my family that taught me most of what I know about art. With a bedrock of creativity and love of learning, I was bound to learn unique ways of being in the world.  My mother taught me to sing, my Gramma Cooper taught me to draw and paint, and my father taught me photography… Among other things.

Depending on the season of my life, I both loved and neglected each of these forms of creativity.  Particularly, I took a long break from my artistic endeavors after the unexpected and devastating loss of Gramma Cooper just before Christmas in 2005. I wasn’t until nearly a decade later that I was able to pick up an artistic implement and create again. While hiding from my voice, and the pain of losing my wonderful Gramma, I was at least able to take pictures.

In 2013 I did a “photo of the day” project, and found that that discipline unleashed my passion for creation – and since that time I’ve worked gradually to reclaim and re-member my artist self.

With my art, I work to explore the unexpected and unusual – and can only hope that people who interact with it are drawn into an experience which evokes reactions they didn’t even know we’re buried within.