I have always been of the belief that talent is innate and not learned. One cannot be taught to be a creative artist anymore than one can be taught to sing if they are tone-deaf, or to dance if they are rhythm-less. I didn't (and still don't) like the politically correct bullshit of art education where we are forced to pat the head of all artists equally and give them an A for effort.  That being said, I was born with natural talent and ability but I have had some amazing teachers that have impacted my art and life along the way. 

To begin Aleta Reed, in El Dorado Arkansas, refined my "rendering" skills and taught me all I needed to know about perspective, hatching, cross-hatching, and other fundamentals, when I was the tender age of eleven. She always encouraged me to enter contests no matter how big or small they were.  It was under her that I first learned linoleum block printing.  She was quirky and she talked about her cat named Cato all the time,  but she was a Country-girl like me.  We got along very well and I will never forget her. 

In Junior College I studied under John Hillier and Carolynn Fox-Hearne.  Mrs. Fox-Hearne was great, gentle and supportive of my art.  I had my first gallery-exhibition when I was at Kilgore Junior College and she was happier for me than I was for myself.  John Hillier was an interesting teacher.  He is one of those people that are hard to read so I never quite knew what he was thinking unless he told me.  I will never forget the day he told me that I "draw beautifully".  I had to mark my calendar.  He challenged me to use mediums that I wasn't comfortable with like crayons or prisma colors.  He even  suggested things I would have never considered using, like toothpicks or sticks along with India ink.  He is a very innovative teacher.  He was and still is very encouraging, helpful, and insightful.  He is also honest and direct.   For those that do not know, he is also an amazing wood sculptor.  I am blown away by everything he creates. 

At UT Tyler, my primary studio teacher was Jim Pace.  What can I say about Jim that I haven't already said in therapy?  Seriously, Jim Pace and I had an interesting dynamic as student and teacher.  From the outside looking in you would have thought we hated each other. If I cursed his name in frustration everyone thought I was "bad-mouthing" him.  If he challenged me on my color palette, imagery, or artistic decision making everyone thought he was "giving me a hard time", myself included.  Luckily, we did not take one another too seriously.  Truthfully, I probably pissed him off about as much as he pissed me off.  I never did assignments which didn't matter to him as an artist but it did as a teacher.  I didn't talk much which could be interpreted as my not being receptive.  I hated talking in class.  I had a slight attendance problem, as well as authority issues. He angered me and frustrated me more times than not, critiques with him could sometimes be demoralizing.  Something was always "monolithic", "bothersome", or "needed another element" or he would say "it just needs more".  To this day, I still wonder: More what?  No matter how much work I did it was never enough.  No matter how big a piece was, it could always be bigger.  Eight feet long? How about the length of the wall? Fifteen pieces? How about thirty?  I constantly felt I had something to prove and I rose to the occasion.  My work grew and developed and evolved.  I proved myself and my ability and I learned to defend some decision-making and feel more comfortable talking about the social and political aspects of my work.   I really could not care less if Jim didn't like a particular piece which he knew, but I always loved it when he did.  He challenged me in a way that I had never really been challenged before.  I think I challenged him also.

The teacher that impacted me the most is my father.  He is also and artist and my toughest, harshest critic.  He does not have to couch his language like a teacher does-not that any of my teachers ever did did.  He is honest-brutally so.  If it does not work, he tells me.  If it looks like shit he tells me exactly that.    Since high school,  my dad has always told me if he felt that I wasn't creative enough or that my teachers and peers were not challenging me enough.  He pulled no punches.  So much of my father's life and wisdom informed my aesthetic and much of it he doesn't even realize.  He always encourages me to be more creative and innovative with my art and to be careful that I don't make my art about the gimmick.  The best advice that he has given me as an artist is to always surround myself with artists who will make me a better artist.