Talented

Both of my parents were artists, whether they got paid for it or not. My dad earned extra money doing lettering and pinstriping on boat transoms, and he was an avid carver when he was retired. My mom taught watercolor classes and could have sold her own work, if she had the interest. Dad could build furniture; Mom could make kick-ass Halloween costumes.

I inherited the interest, but not the grit required to practice something until I was really good at it. I can’t draw or paint, and my furniture-building skills only look good if the furniture in question is on a stage and the audience is pretty far away. I’m good at copying things, and I’m good at following directions, which is why the needle arts have always come easily to me. My knitting and crochet may not always be beautiful, but it’s generally RIGHT, even if I had to fudge a few things to get there.

When Liza started showing interest in art, I did everything I could to support her. Supplies, lessons, attention, dedicated space for her to work ... look back through the blog, it’s all there. And to my surprise, she’s kept at it, even when things weren’t working out to her satisfaction. She’s putting in the hours, and it shows.

My dad passed away before he really had a chance to see Liza’s talent bloom, but my mother stuck around long enough to see the first flowers. She was always so proud of Liza’s work, always happy to have her art on the fridge or in a frame. They did some projects together, back before Mom got sick, and I wish they had been able to do a lot more. My mom would have been so proud to see how much Liza has improved in the last year.