A print used to hang in the back of our classroom. The year was maybe 1963, and I was in first grade. I couldn’t keep my eyes off that print. The bold colors and distorted form fascinated me. How could something be so strange and pretty at the same time?
I later learned that the print on the back wall was a Picasso.
Looking back on that, two things immediately come to mind. One, my first grade teacher with her Jackie Kennedy looks was into the art scene. Two, I think that’s when art first began to speak to my soul.
It’s never stopped.