They say there are signs in your childhood that point to what you are meant to do with your life. The signs are threaded throughout, but may not be noticed until you stand back and take a look.
This photo is me and my very first oil painting, I was twelve. I wish I knew what became of it. It's probably in a land fill somewhere. The photo, which was taken by my Great-Uncle John G. Bowen, is all that remains. He also bought my very first easel and was the first to commission a painting. Thank you, Uncle John!
As a side note: I have given a lot of thought about where my passion for the Desert Southwest came from and, after revisiting this photo, it is obvious that it, too, has been there all along. So, I guess "they" were right. The signs were there all along.
Thanks for bearing with me as I reminisce.