I remember being a little girl. As an only child, I grew up constantly learning new ways to keep myself occupied. Sure, I liked riding my bike and watching cartoons, playing with dolls, friends or my dog, swinging on my swingset...but I LOVED coloring and crafting. I was spoiled, but not in the "traditional only child" way. My grandma was a preschool teacher, and she taught out of the basement level of her house. When my mom went back to work when I was little, I went to Grammy and Papa's. So I had access to all of the crayons, markers, homemade play dough, and whatever else I wanted. Who knows how many hours I spent down there!
My mom and grandma also had a knack for crafts. I remember coloring in coloring books with my mom for hours on the couch on weekends. Grammy held parties for stamp stuff when I was older. We'd make cards to give people for birthdays or holidays (Grammy still does!). Grammy and Papa made all kinds of crafts to sell at craft shows, too. Papa loved woodworking, and made things that Grammy would paint. Sometimes I got to help paint things. I remember bug catchers, Santas, chests of drawers (I still have one Papa made!), and other things.
I remember watching cartoons. But looking back, I think I watched them differently than other kids. Once I realized that someone drew those, I wanted to, too. I'd practice, but I always felt discouraged because mine didn't look the same. I thought I couldn't. So for a long time I didn't. I've always been artistic. But my style through high school, college, and beyond was realistic with lots of details. I still enjoy realistic art, but I feel like I've grown out of doing it myself so much anymore. These days, I've tried to make myself enjoy simpler things in life, including in my art.