I have been sharing some things with the kids in my teenage art class about my early years in Fort Fairfield, Maine. I suppose it is different for  them to think of me as I was at their age. I find it humorous that they seem to have no clue as to my age now. That is as it should be, I suppose.

Kayleen Kennels, my mom’s business was very successful while we lived in northern Maine.  She researched bloodlines and subscribed to Dog World magazine. As a result of magazine ads and dog show championships, she was able to sell and ship poodles all over the country. Loring Air Force Base was located in Limestone, only a few miles from her place of business. Many customers came from there everyday, including weekends to purchase dogs of many different breeds beside the poodles which made her locally well-known. Because of her business acumen and her magnetic personality – she was busy all the time making money. The picture above shows her advertising her business in the Annual Maine Potato Blossom Festival Parade in 1964 in Fort Fairfield. My girlfriend, Anne Ashby helped us by holding a poodle. There were several in the car that day.

By age 13, I had been driving vehicles on the farm for one year. I was 5′ 7″ tall and the fastest female runner in my class. I had great strength in my legs and arms from throwing bales of straw and hay around the barn and managing horses. It was about this time that I started arm wrestling (with boys) too.

The desire to compete was encouraged by my mother and my father. They made sure that my sister Vicki and I were in every horse show possible and had professional training at Teela-Wooket School of Equitation in Vermont. It was here that I became proficient at archery, too. Hand/eye coordination was developed to help with my artwork as well.

My maternal grandmother proclaimed that I was going to be an artist as young as I am in this photo. As she held me on her lap, she watched me use my right index finger to trace the designs on her dress. The only grandparent that I ever knew was aware of how creative people observe details. My cousins, Don and Ruth Clark were artists in the nineteen- twenties. My mother grew up watching these artists paint in a home next to the Clark residence on Conant Road, Fort Fairfield, Maine. It was natural to look for more artists in the family.

My grammy continued to insist that I was an artist after seeing these drawings. She made my mom promise to get art lessons for me as soon as it would be possible.

I drew everything that I could find in the newspaper – including Donald Duck (pictured here). My mom documented as much as possible with her camera and at age 7, I was off to study with a professional artist, Bessie Higgins in Presque Isle, Maine.

My grandfather passed away in 1944. Grammy Clark left a small inheritance from potato farming for my mother in 1958. It was used well. I benefited from the art lessons and my mother was able to start her own business of raising poodles and other breeds. Kathleen Clark  wanted to be a hair dresser when she was young but the 1929 stock market crash wiped out all bank accounts. The money that was set aside for mom’s education was gone. The farmers rallied. By 1934, Richard and Izah Clark were financially able to buy Kathleen a brand new car – a Lafayette for her high school graduation present. She and George Bishop got married in 1936 and had a son Jerry in 1942 and Hollis in 1944. I came along in 1951 and my sister, Vicki in 1953.

All of us were encouraged to be competitive – whether it was speed boat racing for Jerry or dog shows, horse shows and art shows for me and my sister.  It was a way of improving our skills by being passionate about the gifts that we were given by God.

Talent for anything comes for our Lord and we have the duty to develop it, use it and share it with others. When I see parents bringing young children to me for art lessons, it reminds me of my own experience and how my parents encouraged me by agreeing with me that I was an artist at a young age. All of this brings tremendous joy to everyone involved.