On Becoming An Artist

The Sixties

I was born in the 50’s a few years before The Beatles were to change music history with songs like “She Loves You ..Yeah’ and ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’. In the sixties, I spent many childhood summers in Shippagan, New Brunswick. If you were a kid raised on a farm, you had chores to do. If you were visiting from the city, like me, they would kick you out of the house and told to stay out of trouble.

Clam Digging

I took a pail and a shovel and went clam digging every day. In those days there were clams on almost all of the beaches. I walked for miles in black and white canvas sneakers. I loved hearing the waves crash and the seagulls scream. The wind would play with my hair (yes, I had hair then!) and I enjoyed the smell of the salty air. I wore no hat, no sunscreen and I was free to go anywhere I wanted. Ah! Those were the days. When on the beach I would walk barefoot feeling the sand between by toes.

Rocks!!!

Most days I would just dig clams then go for a swim. I would return to my grandmother’s house and sit on the side of the road to sell my day’s bounty. However, on one occasion, while clam digging, I took notice of the rocks I was avoiding when walking barefoot. Clam holes were more abundant where there was sand.

Rocks and more Rocks

On that day I decided to inspect the rocks closer. I bent down picking up a grey pebble with an interesting shape and pattern. It was really smooth to the touch. Then I saw an oval shaped rock that had specks of pink, blue and black. Maybe it was dinosaur egg left there millions of years ago! And I was the first to find it! Who put these there, I wondered. Then, I spotted a wonderful heart shaped rock. Wow!! Finally, there was a pale grey rock with a dark blue heart imprinted on it and a smaller pale grey heart on top of the darker one. What magic was this! Treasures were everywhere I looked. I marvelled at the amazing variety of colours, shapes, patterns and textures.

Becoming an Artist

In my brain and in my heart, that was the day I became an artist. Clam digging turned into rockhounding. It took me another fifty years to paint what is a lifelong passion of discovery. Painting transports me to a favorite rocky beach. I hear the waves crashing on the shore, the wind is caressing my face and I smell the salty air. Then, looking down, I never know what treasures I will find.