The Beginning: An Artist Was Made
The very first memory I can recall is from my infancy. I was there, lying in my crib, as the warmth of the sun oozed from the window and covered me like a blanket. And without notice, a blissful symphony of bright colors came into view. Oranges, reds, yellows, and a dark phthalo green partook in the most in elaborate of dances. Then with such an unmistakable intimacy, these colors carved out an ephemeral doorway that I could not help but enter. This doorway was Van Gogh's "Sunflowers". It was hanging on the wall of my nursery next to my crib. This thorough exploration of the vivid brushstrokes, colors, and patterns carved the path that I forever walk with grace; the path of the artist.
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