My childhood was full of beauty. My mother was an artist whose creativity astonished, delighted, and astounded me. Alas, I couldn’t draw a straight line and felt envious of those who could create.
Eons later I inadvertently discovered that I had inherited a modicum of my mother’s talent. One Saturday, I walked to the local old-fashioned candy store to refill my supply of my childhood favorite, Turkish Taffy. The candy store was gone. In its place was a Bead Store, ironically named “Wherefore Art Thou.” I sighed and started home when a woman inside saw me, smiled, and waved. I walked in and my life changed.
Guided by this welcoming hybrid guardian angel, muse, and owner, I learned how to bead and make jewelry. Despite my ineptness and (to my mind) inadequate motor skills, I mysteriously persevered. I followed patterns and relished the sense of mastery over the stitches, acquired over hundreds of hours of late night practice. I was in love with beads and beading.
I then took a freeform peyote beading class. I was transformed. I had created something of my own and found my inheritance. I continue to revel in creation, and am privileged to be part of a cooperative of creative and generous artists.