Throughout my career, through times of huge activity and times of contemplation, through times when I rebelled against art and when I grasped for it, I felt the leading of the Lord steering me through whatever state I plunged. Also, beside me all the way, never wavering in support and encouragement, is my husband Pieter. Together we’ve weathered storms and thrilled at the clearing skies, raised two fine sons and loved their wives as daughters of our own, and we became giddy as children with the additions of the wee ones.
I would love to say that I have been diligently and consistently pursuing a productive art career throughout my life. But I can’t.
At one point I declared I was no longer an artist. I quit! In not too many months, though, the initial relief at no longer feeling guilt when not at my easel began to grow into a quiet yearning. I tried to ignore it, but it wasn’t long before the yearning became a hunger. Darn it, I thought. All this time I believed my decision to be an artist was a choice. It wasn’t a choice. It was a need…as vital to me as air.
My art had to be more than academic expressions. I needed to tell a story…my story.