today my old art teacher, Karen, has been on my mind. Oh how I loved/love her. As I am setting up/starting my life as an artist here in Charlottesville she is so present. 

And at moments like this when I feel vulnerable on many different fronts I wish I could go have tea with her, walk around a park and talk. She gave me so many gems of wisdom that have shaped me. She was also one of those people who everyone loved. (Or that’s how I perceived her) and when she fixed her attention on you you were the focus and she’d see exactly what was needed. 

This is of course a very romantic remembering of a lady who taught me how to see and paint who died 14 years ago.

Today it would be Ronnie, my clay instructor in college who taught me or gave me the courage to express my inner life in clay. Hed sit next to me and say “listen honey, you’ve made it. The things you’re doing.” And we’d talk clay and art and life. We did last April and it was the best.

i guess what I am saying is I am missing those who have been my mentors in life and art so much. To just look at me and see ME. Not what I present to the world. And tell me they love me and that I can do it.  Not just can bjt will. ARE doing it.

while an active user I soured my instincts. I have had to learn to trust them again. And I am. Ku instincts and HPs hand. 

I need very few things, one important being my work and ability to make and share it. Ok, time to bury myself in it for a bit.


Christina Osheim