As a kid, I never really drew much. I'd been given a sweet little Brownie Spartus when I was just 2 1/2 years old. It had a strap, which I basically attached to my wrist as soon as I realized I could carry the camera with me at all times.
It wasn't until I began traveling to Uganda and spending time in the art room at St. Mary Kevin Orphanage that I developed a desire to try my hand at drawing. There were some amazingly talented kids who would spend every waking hour working on a painting or drawing using the art supplies we had brought over in our duffel bags. Using the charcoal and colored pencils down to the nubs, then turning the page over and creating another small masterpiece, these kids inspired me in ways no one ever had before. One young boy in particular noticed that I was itching to try my hand at it, and he gave me some lessons. Okecha Brian took me under his wing and encouraged me to keep practicing.
I dabbled a bit once back in the States, but never really spent much time at it until I had rotator cuff surgery in 2014. My dominant arm and hand were immobilized for six weeks. I couldn't even use a fork. There was no way I could raise a camera to my eye. Starved for a creative outlet, I pulled out my sketch pad and pastel chalks and got messy. When I was out and about, people started asking about the chalk smudges on my face.
Sometimes I added words to these left-handed drawings.
I continued to draw everywhere: in our small condo, in my photo studio, and even on the airplane when I traveled (sorry fellow passengers).
I did some collaging, too. I'd cut out a drawing and paste it onto a page on which I had drawn a background.
I loved smearing the chalk around with my fingers, trying to figure out how best to blend colors and create texture. I tried incorporating ink, charcoal, and marker. I was having a a blast, and I wasn't shy about showing the drawings off. Okecha Brian kept liking my posts on Facebook and sending encouragement from Uganda. I sold a few pieces and even got a commission.
But soon I started coughing like crazy, and I developed a constant sore throat. It was obvious that inhaling all that pastel chalk was doing me in. Sucking on Luden's Cherry flavored cough drops, I kept drawing... on larger and larger paper even. Once I was sure I had lung cancer, I figured I'd better hang up my newly found creative outlet.
My husband suggested I look at a digital drawing program called ProCreate, something he'd read about online. I made a bee line down to our local Apple store, took a lesson, and I left with an iPad that has been my sketch pad ever since.
