Carol St. James McKim
My first attempts at drawing began in my grandmother’s backyard as I lay on my stomach over an old wooden swing my grandfather had made for my mother and her siblings. The swing hung from an even older cherry tree as I drew stick figures in the dirt beneath the plank.
The next attempt at drawing was in 6th grade where I doodled ladies with big hair and bigger bosoms in pretty dresses on my homework paper. I used oil paint in the 8th grade to create a still-life of a wine bottle and fruit. To this day, I am challenged to get matching shapes on each side of a bottle neck.
In a twinkling, my own children in grade school had the same curriculum of taking art classes. This time the medium was watercolor. I dabbled along with them. My results were pathetic.
The next time I took brush in hand was 40 years later. I wondered if my complex and interesting life would reveal miraculous changes enabling me to produce good art. It didn’t. I don’t know what kept me playing in the paint box. What I produced was terrible.
I got better. My skills improved and my paintings were good enough to be juried into the Desert Art Center in Palm Springs. I began to sell my artwork applied to canvas, paper, and rocks at various Street Fairs. I was invited to have a one woman art show at Palo Verde Community College in Blythe, California.
Whether I use watercolor, acrylic, pen and ink, or a pencil, my goal is to create with joy.