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Friday, March 12, 2010
It's All Their Fault
I blame my parents. If it weren't for their combined DNA, I wouldn't be a writer or have spent so many years as an artist. Yeah, it's all their fault!
Seriously though, before I even had a say-so, I became apprentice first to my father with the silk screening business he launched from his studio. Then with my mom, I started helping out when the deadlines were shorter than the amount of work we had. (We painted canvas for tapestries.) From there, I went into painting children's portraits. Of course, when they got me this huge dictionary and a typewriter for my thirteenth birthday, it would have been craptacularly rude not to use them. I had been writing all the stories and stuff in my head by hand for so long. But I loved that old ribbon typewriter, even if the klutzy keys kept getting stuck on one another.
So yeah, they made me do it. They made me become an artist and a writer. If it weren't for them, I'd probably be an accountant or a dentist or a postal worker.