I feel like I have SOMETHING to CHEER ABOUT . . .

Being creative and WANTING to be creative are two completely different things. At least that's how things actually start out within your brain. Forming the points beyond that phase is exactly where you want to be be in the beginning.

I am feeling out what you could be fishing to for, knowing that this will probably only scratch the surface and big questions will arise. I am ALSO not claiming to know much about blogging, but am simply taking the opportunity to be forming a platform for you and I to speak frankly about our creative bent.

SETTING THAT ALL ASIDE for a moment, I will first briefly set up a small introduction of where I am coming from as an artist of my own right. When did I begin to feel involved in the creative thought? As far back as I can remember, I can say that I have felt a creative need. The need to doodle, the need to draw, the need to fill myself with color and creation before my eyes that stated "YES, I LOVE IT!". Maybe it was back when Romper Room and Captain Kangaroo showed me ways of doing new things in a way that got be to look forward to the next new thing. Adding to that, maybe it was the time my brothers were out side making miniature roadways in the driveway down a t our vacation cottage our family shared with my Grandpa Harvey Nelson Salsburey and I no toy cars with me to join in the fun. My mother took an empty matchbox, poked holes in the side for toothpicks to go through. These toothpicks were used to hold working card board wheels she had made for a matchbox car. Funny how the mind holds onto things and lets other things get away. Can't say it started there, but it was at least an important memory to learn to create.

Speaking of Harvey Nelson Salsburey, I remember him for drawing a beautiful steam locomotive in beautiful perspective, coming down the track. That is one thing entirely of its own. What has put me in awe in the last 20 years, is contemplating that as a very young child, I remember him wanting me to use crayons and allowed me to actually color it; color on his beautiful, hard work.

We are talking about a beautiful pencil rendering on maybe, blank newsprint, I'm guessing?

It may not necessarily be my beginnings, but certainly my memorable ones. I also have a drawing he did of Abe Lincoln that I preserved as it was decaying away.

Long before there was such a thing as "art class" in my life, teachers took note of what I loved to do. I think at about 1st or second grade my teacher had me go up front in front of all the class and draw a sheep for them on the blackboard. (Yes, I did say "blackboard")

I KNOW I said brief, but you know how things tend to grow out of control? MY things tend to anyway.

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