First Memory,

My first memory was my house in Woodstock. The freedom of the lake, the vastness of the yard, the peacefulness of the house. It was just so beautiful. I wish all of my memories still were as warm and "fuzzy" as this one. But they are not, and that is where a lot of the distress comes from in my art work. A lot of anger and despair. Even though my first memory was a beautiful, warm, memory a lot of my childhood memories and pre-teen memories are not.
I think those memories have more of an impact on my art than my first memory. My first memory usually comes through at the end of a series. The light at the end of the tunnel kind of thing.