Artist Statement of Pop Art Diva - Pop Art and Pop Culture for the New Millenium

Being an artist has always been something of a two-edged sword for me. I waver between believing I am blessed or cursed. Maybe the truth is I am a little of both. Either way, it seems I have no choice in the matter for I am not truly happy unless I am drawing, painting, sculpting or hammering away. I don't care if it's crayons or computers, oil or watercolor, clay or mud, give me a way to doodle and I am content. It's been that way for me since I first held a crayon.

My belief that art is vital extends beyond my own needs. I believe that without art, without The Arts, humanity will decline and the individual will wither away. What would be left could not be called Homo sapiens. If this seems extreme, imagine your world without the creative input of musicians, scientific theorists, visual artists, the performing arts and all the other creative disciplines. Even the caveman painted on the rocks in a desire to impart his knowledge of the world and relieve the cold harshness he lived in.

This desire to bring beauty, knowledge or meaning is at the heart of every creative endeavor. It is the driving force behind every new idea or artifact. It may even be the purpose of life; it is for me. For whatever reason, art exists and in art lives the spark of creation that mimics the universe. Whatever you choose to call that spark, without it we cannot survive. And why would we want to?

At the end of the day, when I look at something I created that did not exist before I brought it into being, the clarity of my choice of profession rings true. The curse of the creative process is far outweighed by the blessing of bringing something new into the universe. The double-edged sword loses its sting and I know why I am an artist. For me art is not a choice, it is a necessity. It's been that way for me since I first held a crayon and it will be that way for me until that crayon is pried from my lifeless fingers. On second thought, don't pry that crayon out of my hand . . . . . . . . . . . I might just need it.