Retirement at the age of 66 was the catalyst for my entry into the world of art and I’ve been living this wonderful dream ever since. I avoided referring to myself as an artist until I realized that no one is suddenly going to confer on me the title of “Artist” except myself. The minute I started referring to myself as an artist is when I became one. In order to determine what medium drove my passion for art, I tried everything: pastels, colored pencils, acrylics, watercolor, charcoal and discovered that each had some element(s) that freed the creative spirit in me. But my real passion didn’t come until I began creating collages. That is when I began to really understand the phrases “wild abandon” and “time just flies by without any consciousness”. I found I was most drawn to splashes of vivid colors and interesting shapes that just seemed to fall into cool compositions. I am soothed by curved and non-linear lines. The thing about becoming an artist is the wonder of beginning to see “paintings” and incredible variations of color everywhere…in landscapes, textiles, flowers, skin color, eyes, etc. there simply weren’t enough hours in the day to capture all the beauty I was seeing. I still try to catch that very moment when the sun glints off the mountaintop at the start of a new day or seeing red poppies glow as the light changes them to orange at sunset. It all just seems magical to me.