Quite often when I think about what I do for a living, I also ponder what could I have done differently. I've been a Human Resources Manager for almost 8 years and prior to that I was an Administrative Assistant to the Superintendent for 11 years. That's a long time to be in one position. Prior to that I was a Temporary Clerical/Secretary for Kelly Temporary, a legal secretary, a secretary for a tumor registry (fascinating job), a secretary/payroll acounts payable/receivable for a family owned custom furniture business, a church secretary (LOL), State Board of Equalization Audit Control Office Assistant II, Compliance Office Assistant II, and Del Taco Countergirl. I attended community college, a vocational college and took a few classes through University of Phoenix. I was 17/18 years old when all this began. I am now 50 years old.
At the age of 49, I remembered that I really love art.
I sing, play improvised piano (a boyfriend from my senior year expanded by childhood piano lessons by teaching me this method), and I play guitar. I've been told I have a better than average singing voice, but I'm still pretty limited on the instruments. Although I remember my second year in college playing a concerto piano piece by Bach (how did that ability go away?). I used to be able to memorize the words to song, so I could sing solos without music. Now I only remember the chorus when singing along to music. Brains are so clear when you are young.
I love computers. Thank God for technology. I can do alot on a computer. I do alot of computer created documentation for my employment. I developed the newsletter for the school district I work for. I also assist our IT with updating our District website. Fun stuff.
During the summer of my Junior year in highschool, I was offered a scholarship to the Los Angeles Institute of Art. Unfortunately, due to transportation issues, I was unable to accept. I did art every year, up until that point in my life. I drew, I did ceramics, paper mache forms, carved, you name it -- anything to be artistically creative, I did it.
Well, I guess I'm just wondering what could I have done differently with my life -- with my life, I'm speaking basically about my career life.
Now that I've rediscovered my love for art, I was all excited about painting and marketing my creations. I have been told by many people in my life that I should market my creativity. I'm an organizer of events which include decorating, etc. So I've put my art on websites which recreate my art, but as of yet (a little over a year), I have sold a tote bag on Cafe Press - "Class In Session". Just two weeks ago, I had a friend invite me to display my gallery wrapped art in her shop which is a beautifully decorated trophies and engraving shop. She committed to buying one of my pieces. This was very encouraging and I'll have to see how successful selling originals through this means does. However, this on line stuff is getting pretty disheartening. I've been told be persistent and don't give up.
I'm utilzing this blog so people might get to know me as a person and eventually realize what my art portrays and possibly why I paint it.
Let me share alittle about my childhood. I was born in East Los Angeles (really, I can't believe this myself) at Los Angeles General Hospital. I didn't meet my biological father until I was around 22 years old. He died when I remarried and after I had my twin boys in 1998. I look alot like his mother.
From birth to about 7 years old I lived in an autistic world, with research now a days, it was most likely Aspergers Syndrome, which sometimes allows it's victims to come out of their trance like world. I give credit to my Aunt Mickey who used to hold me for hours and call out my name. I remember memories of my Abuelita dancing to cubias and the smell of folgers coffee, beans and oatmeal in her kitchen.
At the age of four years old, I was sexually abused by a cousin in my mother's family (while my single divorced Mom worked) -- of course, that woke me up for a brief moment only to be able to get the perpetrator sentenced to Patton Mental Hospital for a while. I remember the smell of the courthouse and everything a four year old child can remember. I remember sitting on an adult's lap while I testified and identified the man who had violated my small innocent body.
I have some great childhood memories from when my Mom remarried, but for the most part, my childhood sucked. I wouldn't wish my childhood on any child.
There were some happy memories I remember, but mostly as an older child. Trips to Abalone Cove, Redondo Beach Pier, Long Beach, Grand Canyon, Yosemite, growing gardens, pay day and McDonalds or a movie. My parents did the best they could, but our family was poor. I remember going to school with two pieces of stale bread and cheese with a hard edge. Rarely did I have a lunch that included fresh fruit or the coveted desserts. I remember not having a lunch and the lunch lady setting me at a table with a piece of bread and butter and some water and then she told me to tell my parents I owed her a nickel. Why do we remember those sad times?
For some reason, I guess because I was so outgoing, my friends included kids whose families had money. I loved spending the night at those houses, because they ate well!! I also remember those were the friends who didn't have too many boundaries either. I remember smoking with my friend Stacey Cadoo at about 9 years old on the roof of her two story house. We smoked in her Mom's bathroom as well and when her Mom would knock we would spray hairspray and say we were doing each other's hair. I had a great slumber party one year with about 8 girls who spent the night -- I must have been around 10 or 11when that happened.
Getting lice from a friend who spent the night for one night at my house in 6th grade didn't help my popularity either. My mother panicked when she saw the bugs on my head and she shaved me bald. Then realizing what she had done, set up an appointment for me to get a wig, which up until the 6th grade graduation had been a daily running marathon from the kids who wanted to pull it off. Mr. Noonan was my savior and would wait with me after school until I could walk home safely without the cruelty of the daily marathon and teasing. This was also a very painful time for another unpleasant memory which I chose not to share, but was horrific. Let's talk about something that could push me even further over the edge. I was called "Licehead" until 8th grade by a girl named Georgia. The end of 7th grade I had long hair and pretty much told her to "Kiss my ass!" Then it stopped. Of course, the next year I attended a Seventh Day Adventist Academy. Then every year there after until I graduated I went to a different school each year.
At some point my Dad started to make money and then we rarely went hungry. I remember a pool table and a really great Christmas where we got about 14 presents each. Soooooo, ....
Through my faith in and by the grace of God, I still remain a positive and very optimistic person. It is so much easier to be happy than to be miserable because of what other people did to make it that way. I focussed on the people who loved me and made me laugh. Who invited me to their house (the Ciolli's) just because they loved me. My beautiful cousins Yaya and Sandra who made my childhood bearable and my teens terrific!! My Mom's brother-in-laws and sisters who took me into their homes and shared some awesome times with me. Pam, a 25 year old single woman, who drove me up the coast and let me spend the night in her apartment on many occasions as a teen. The times my brother, my Mom and Dad and I would swing on a patio swing as a family in the back yard of our home or set up the tent in the livingroom and sleep there. The nights of story telling and gazing at stars. Those are the times I reflect on. My parents have been by my side through my adulthood and have been fabulous Grandparents. I love their souls tremendously. Those are the times that make my art happy. I don't paint dark ever, because there just isn't any reason for it and I don't like horror or sadness.
I've been married to four different men, because if someone starts to mistreat me or take me for granted, I don't want to be around them anymore. I have four children who are the best things that ever happened in my life and I would marry their father again, just to assure they were the children I ended up with. I'm hoping husband number four lasts.
So now, now that all this past is behind me, all I want to do is paint. I want to sell my art to support my acrylic and canvas habit -- and that's all I have to say about that.
