A thousand years from now, when archaeologists unearth my home, they will be mystified by the quantity of pens and pencils they find: in every drawer, between couch cushions, in jacket pockets, on tables, and in jars. Everywhere! What on earth happened in this house?! I can’t pass up a stationery display, ever. Online or […]
Tag: memory jug
A question I’m often asked is, “When did you become an artist?”, or the variation, “When did you start making art?” The answer to both is that I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t drawing or painting or making something. My earliest memories are of holding a pencil and scratching at a piece of […]