My Story

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It wasn’t until after my father passed that I truly understood the depth of my art journey—and the path I was always meant to follow. I only wish I had discovered it while he was still here.

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I grew up in Indiana, where “scenic drives” were a regular family activity. My dad would quiz us for hours with art trivia: “Who painted with dots?” or “Who painted ballerinas?” and “Can you name the Renaissance painters?” The questions went on as endlessly as the cornfields we passed. I didn’t realize it then, but a seed was being planted.

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In middle school, we moved to Washington D.C. My dad was a graphic artist at an ad agency, and our family weekends were filled with visits to art museums, historical monuments, and hopeful laps around the White House (we never spotted President Carter). My siblings and I just wanted to play Frogger on our Atari, but my parents were passionate about art, history, and education.

 

After school, I took every kind of art class—pottery, drawing, painting, sewing, even plein air painting with a local senior center. My mom, ever the cheerleader, entered me in every art contest she could find, hoping I’d make it big (and she could become my official momager).

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Eventually, we settled in Madison, Connecticut—new town, new museums, same growing passion. At Daniel Hand High School, I lived in the art department. My teachers saw my drive and nurtured it. I spent lunch breaks in the art room, constantly creating. That little seed kept growing.

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After high school, I received an art scholarship to Endicott College, where I studied under Professor Broudo—my art angel. He mentored me, challenged me, and fueled my love of learning. I’ll never forget the 6:00 a.m. mornings, racing to the kiln to check on my pottery. He’d be there at the door, arms crossed, nodding: “Now that’s an inspired artist.” Weekends were spent painting the ocean in Gloucester, exploring Boston’s art museums, and talking for hours about art and life. The leaves were forming.

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Now, as a wife and mom of three, I feel called to inspire the next generation in a joyful, encouraging environment. Art is in my heart, soul, and mind—it’s something I can’t turn off. The flower is blooming.

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Through the years, the love and support of my husband, friends, and family have helped me keep going. They’ve encouraged me to dream bigger, be brave, and follow the path that brings me the most joy.

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The trivia car rides and museum trips continue with my own kids. And yes—they groan when I ask, “Now, who painted ballerinas?” But I smile, because I think of my dad, and I know… he’s proud.

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New seeds are being planted every day here at Splat Art Studio. And they’re still growing.