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Let me introduce myself.
One early childhood memory is standing in the brook on the other side of our lane way. This brook was really a stream, not very deep but deep enough in the spring to be of danger to a little person like me. Yes, I was a little. Many years ago.
The brook was spring fed as was all the water on our farm. My dad would boast that his water was the best. Spring water. Clean. Clear. Natural. Not from a well.
I would stand in the brook in my rubber boots watching the water swirl around my boots, careful not to slip on the stones and rocks. The water rushed in the springtime and slowed down in the summer. By the end of June, the brook would have become a stream, then a trickle. It would bubble and burble on its fast, then slow journey to its destination.
Water was always important in my childhood and youth. It was free to us, but never less important. Wasting water was clearly not something anyone would do in our household. Donï¿½t waste the water! was clearly heard by all.
Water has always held my fascination; it has always been a means to an end. It has been an integral part of my life. It makes perfect sense to be a painter of watercolour. Water still has a hold on me. It still plays an important role in my life.
(An excerpt from my upcoming book. All rights reserved. Heather Gallup)
Heather Gallup joined Fine Art America on September 19th, 2014.