Twenty Two Years Ago

Drawing was an emotional outlet for me when I was a child. Twenty two years ago, I had a sketchbook that I kept in the drawer of my grandmother's antique sewing table. I grew up and moved out- leaving the book behind. I served in the army, got married, had two children and moved on to other forms of artistic (and quite emotional) expression.

Years later, my mother gave me a birthday gift. She found my old sketchbook, cut out some of her favorites and had them framed for me. I was quite surprised that she had kept them for so long, and I was thankful because it rekindled the passion I had for drawing.