I was four when my grandmother brought me my first box of crayons and a coloring book. I immediately scribbled like mad covering every surface of every page, an occasional crayon breaking and taking flight, to the horror of my mother and grandmother as they watched. I have been in love with the smell of crayons ever since. My father was the greatest influence on me as an artist. Though he no longer produced art he began sketching with me when I was about six. The dishes were pushed aside after dinner each night and he would instruct...more
