First Years

My first years of my life were quite faint. I do remember being as young as two years old. Unfortunately, I only remember the bad things my little sister Fawn and I endured. My father and mother argued a lot, but they also loved us a lot too. My father was 20 years old and my mother was 17 years old, when I was born. They were both too young to even raise children but they did the best they could. I was three years old when my parents finally separated. My father could not afford to take care of Fawn and I, so he gave us up to my mother. I remember crying for my father, yelling"Daddy" over and over. My bond was a lot more stronger with my father then it was with my mother. Fawn was just sitting there not knowing what was going on. I think she was too young to even know what was going on.

I do understand now why my father had to leave us. He did it because he was broke and also because he loved us. He thought our best interest was with our mother. The sense of abandonment had hit me hard. I did feel a little safe with my mother but I also felt safer being with Fawn. Fawn was my little "Teddy Bear". She gave me such love and comfort.

My mother's alcoholism came to light during our brief time with her. I awoke some nights and found my mother wasn't there. She locked us in a room while she went out to party. When those nights came I would run to the window, open it and cry for my mother over and over again.
We were terrified of being left alone. This went on for quite sometime. If she didn't go out she brought the party to the apartment. All kinds of people, and they were all drunk. I don't remember them hurting us, but it was very unhealthy for us to be around all of that chaos. I thought this was a way of life. It was at this time when I was only three years old that I took my first drink. The nearly empty beer can was laying on the floor one morning and I picked it up and drank it!

I know my mother was not a good mother but I knew she loved us and we loved her. It just wasn't a family that was meant to be. My mother locked us up again and someone finally called the police.

We ended up in foster care in Denver, Colorado. It was hard for us at first, but we got to be children again among the other kids. Three meals a day and lots of toys to play with. Fawn and I got to see our mother one last time, but we were too busy playing with our toys. My mother wept and cried. We had no idea what was going on. We were just happy. My mother's alcoholism got the best of her, but it was also a blessing for us. Although this time in my life has affected me deeply to this day, I have made peace with it and I have forgiven my mother for what she had put us through.

Staying Busy

My Students (2007).

I've been working on a painting project for my good friend Winona LaDuke. The project is located in Callaway, Minnesota at the new Native Harvest / White Earth Land Recovery Project building.
I painted a 260 foot long by 11 inch in width Ojibwe Floral Design. I seriously under bid myself and the project took a lot longer then I thought. But the positive side of it was, I got to make new friends which were very nice and considerate to me. I learned how to paint faster and build more experience as a painter. I even got to work with children through out the White Earth Indian Reservation as an artist. The kids were great to work with! Such great attention span and enthusiasm. Never a dull moment.
I'm now on track with my art. Making my large color pencil drawing's for an upcoming exhibition in London this coming September of 2007. Jim Rosenquist called me a couple of times yesterday regarding the painting's. He plans to buy a painting and he's got some buyer's lined up as well. I did tell him it's hard to make painting's when there is no money in it. Everytime I paint, I paint myself into a hole, broke! Jim saved me a couple of times due to this process. I think he knows by now, I'm having a hard time making that transition from color pencils to paint. So far, I'm really coming along well with painting! I just needed a little push in the right direction and Jim did so.

Born With a Gift

My father tells me I became an artist at the early age of 8 months. Which, I did not believe until I saw my mother for the first time, six years ago. She was telling me the same story my father had been telling me all those years! I was drawing shapes and scribbles at 8 months! My father said I looked like a little fat troll baby with bright hazel eyes. My jet black hair just wouldn't sit down. It was like a bolt of lightning hit me. I must of looked pretty funny and weird at that time! Relatives and neighbors would come over and watch me draw. I'm sure some of them were surprised. I think it was around my first year that I drew my first figure, my father tells me. It was a full bodied person! I don't think my father will ever get tired of telling me that story.

Transition

Currently, I am working on drawings and paintings. I am having a hard time working the two mediums together. There is quick money in drawings but there is no money in painting........yet. I really would love to paint more, but there is the money factor right now. I am sure I will laugh about this "starving artist" time in my life, later on. I am very thankful for Jim Rosenquist for his inspiration and help. I thank him for assisting me to see the endless possibilities of expanding my artistic mind. So far I have 7 large acrylic paintings. Rosenquist has expressed his good intentions for my paintings. I appreciate him helping me and not asking a penny from me. He just wants to help me succeed.