After DD arrived in Australia, she needed some work so she became an artist's model. She was good at it (since she knew what an artist needed) but after a couple of years she was pining to be on the other side of the easel.
The trouble was, DD didn't think she really was an artist. She knew that since when she was little she wanted to be an artist, and she loved being creative -but was she an artist? She doubted it.
She decided to go to graphic arts school and become a graphic artist. DD spent two years going to evening classes and graduated with top marks. She got a job in an advertising agency. She made friends with the wrong people (being oblivious to office politics) and ended up getting fired after 8 months.
One day, at the age of 28, she asked herself the question "If I found out that I was going to die in a year, what would I regret not having done?" The answer came in a flash, unequivocal, she would regret not having painted and drawn.
DD wasn't sure what that meant, whether it meant she was an artist, but she knew she had to find out. She decided to give herself a year of painting and see what happened. Would the desire grow, or just would it just be a small excursion?
She went to adult education classes. First she took watercolour, then acrylic painting.
One day another student, an outspoken Russian woman in her 60's, came up to her and said "What are you doing here?"
Confused, DD said "pardon?"
"You don't belong here", said the woman gruffly. "It is ridicules. Why aren't you studying at university?"
And with that, she applied at university for her post-graduate degree.
By the end of the year at Uni, even though she didn't fit in and wasn't very happy, she knew she was an artist. The seed she had planted had begun to grow.
And that was the end of her relationship with the Aussie (cause you can't be an artist and have a jealous lover.)
DD fell in love with an English man, moved to the country and began painting.
But soon there was a hitch. Even though she had a post graduate degree in the visual arts, no one had taught her the skills of painting. She found that she couldn't paint the pictures in her heart. She didn't know how.
She needed a teacher.
this story is continued here