From culinary school to an art career: How a closed door changed the course of my life.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?”

This is the most common question I get at art shows or when people see my work for the first time.  It’s funny, because one would think that I had dreamed about this career from childhood.  It’s simply not the case.

You see, I had never met a successful artist.  I grew up with the assumption that creating art was fun, and it was just something to do in your spare time, or after retirement… seriously.  It didn’t stop me from loving the creative process, however.  I colored with the best of them.  I made art supplies out of the most random items, and it was always pure joy.

In middle and high school, I turned a great deal of my attention to the kitchen.  I would come home, change into comfortable clothes, and go help Mom with whatever she was preparing.  I didn’t care what we were making, but I wanted to be in the middle of it.  Soon I began believing that I wanted to be a bread and pastry chef for a living, and my parents and I began touring culinary institutes..  I was all set!  Now, just to graduate..

I’ve heard that God shuts doors and opens windows. I’ve always thought that was a pretty cheesy concept, but my senior year I got to experience it first-hand.  It turns out that they don’t allow 17-year olds into culinary school.  It’s something about sharp knives and hot ovens I’m sure…  I got this jolt of reality as I neared graduation.  It seemed clear that I would have to put off becoming a chef at least for a time.  Not to be discouraged, I began looking for a way to amuse myself for a year, and decided on attending “regular” college.  A school I wasn’t even interested in attending offered me a full scholarship.  This scared me into trying for a full scholarship where I actually wanted to attend (Union University).   I had only a week to get the ACT score I needed to even be considered for a full scholarship there, and it turns out they had a final residual test I could take ASAP.