Even though my mother started an art school (with me in it at the age of 3), I often feel it is my dad and his endless curiosity that propelled me towards a career in art. His home counts 8 or 9 workplaces dedicated to such things as cider making, welding, a saw mill, archiving family history, learning Japanese poetry, making jewelry and sculpture, maple syrup-ing, vacuum repair and more. From him I saw how an old washing machine was a valuable resource. I watched him turn a deer antler and an expired bullet casing into a whistle, (many many times). My sisters and nieces wear jewelry fashioned out of the insides of old computer hard drives. But that is nothing... We see him turn bricks into lamps and boxes of rusty parts into a working vintage farm truck. The list goes on.
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| Dad's work table/ Atelier |
In the summer I paint upstairs from his vet clinic and his wood shop. Down below he tinkers and putters at this work table between clients.
I paint his table and we appreciate the sculptural jewelry, but the alchemy between the two is still a mystery.
Today, between midnight and 1am he turns 20.5 years of age. He continues, at this young leap year anniversary, to inspire us all.
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