HOW DO I START BLOGGING MY JOURNEY?
Starting this blog seemed like it would be easy. But I quickly realized that sharing something so personal can be both a heart-searching and daunting task. Where do I begin? How can I capture your attention and inspire you to stay with me as my journey unfolds? Do I need to go to blog school? (-: Do I need to binge-watch YouTube tutorials? No. I’ve decided to write from my heart.
This is my dream, and I’m living it. If my story can show you anything, it’s that it’s never too late to go after yours. If I could do what I’ve done to get here, so can you.
I started painting at 58—not with skill, but with a spark of curiosity. I had been feeling a creative void, and after much meditation, quiet reflection, and prayer, I found the answer. Painting? The thought took me by surprise because I’d never painted before. But something told me I had to try. Here’s the crazy part: I had no paints.
Taking this newfound inspiration seriously, I ran to my kitchen and gathered anything I thought could produce color—ground coffee, tea, curry powder, paprika, and whatever else I could mix with water or oil. That’s how I started.
With time and encouragement from my dear friends who gifted me acrylic paints, my passion deepened. I realized how much joy painting brought me, and I became obsessed with learning more. Could I truly pursue this on a higher level? I decided to find out. My search for knowledge led me to researching the internet and was drawn to an Art Master in Brittany, France, whose oil paintings left me in awe. His mastery of the Old Masters’ techniques—underpainting and glazing—was a skill rarely seen today, and he offered classes. I knew I had to learn from him. After a couple of weeks of speaking with him ( that's another story in itself)' I flew from Jamaica to England, where I stayed with my brother and my sis in law -who encouraged me- before embarking on my next adventure. A few weeks later, I arrived at the airport in Dinard, France, rented a car, and—with only a printed map and no GPS—set out to find Chateau de Bogard -some 70 km away-for an intense art class. (Getting lost along the way is another story for another time!) And did I mention? I couldn’t speak a word of French.
This was the beginning of my journey, a journey that taught me dreams have no expiration date.
If you’re reading this and wondering if it’s too late to follow your passion, let me tell you—it’s never too late. Take the first step. You might be surprised at where it leads you
------- My Journey had truly began......
Arriving in England at the home of my brother and my sis in law before venturing off to France.
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