Sunday, March 30, 2008
Growing up as a kid in Utah, I had the good fortune of being exposed to art -- real art -- at an early age. My best friend's dad was a bronze sculptor, and her mom was a painter, seamstress, crafter, and decorator. I loved wandering across the street from my house to theirs. I loved seeing the way photographs and paintings were arranged on the walls. I loved the smell of clay (and that old Xerox copier) in her dad's studio. Sometimes Grant would even let us play with the clay. Being that close to a working artist, especially one of Grant's caliber, cemented art in me for good.