My childhood room had a big leafy tree painted in the corner, and a pale blue sky ceiling. Painted by my mother.  She is an artist – the roots of my own talent. 

 

The trunk I had to build myself. I trained in art & graphic design in college, took weekly painting classes, learned how to make furniture - and practiced, a lot. 

 

When my kids were little, art meant backyard movie theatre/sew your own pillow/friendship bead birthday parties, life sized cardboard boats for dance recitals, and a painting of the fifty states on the pavement of their elementary school. These were the first small, sweet branches.

 

In 2015, I started teaching Paint Nights in town. Maybe (I hope!) planting small trees for other people, who weren't sure they had the right conditions to make beautiful things.    

 

Then, when my youngest of 4 kids started school, I somehow developed a hobby of digging through people’s trash. I’d find old, discarded things and try to make them new. Those branches grew too, and those old things are being used again in beautiful ways.

 

I’ve worked in a corner of my basement, ballet shoes and basketballs kicked aside – and in my backyard barn, bundled in sweaters with sawdust in my eyes. But the tree needed space, and so did I. 

 

A space dedicated to Art, those who make it and those who want to make it. (Or just want to buy it  :)

I named it Tin Bucket because my kids, who aren't so little anymore, picked out that name when they were, and it just sounded right. 

 

That space has turned into an amazing seven years of creativity and community. Thank you for helping me and Tin Bucket grow.