H.G. And how did you find it again?

L.E. In the late 1970s, I bought myself a little calligraphy pen set and taught myself how to use a chisel pen. I became completely entranced with the skill and spent every spare dollar on books and supplies. I didn’t know anyone in my area that shared my interest—except for one woman. I wanted to take a class from her but right before her class began, I was in a car accident and had to wear a cast on my arm for several weeks.

I continued to teach myself and then eventually decided to have a small exhibit at our local library. From that, I met a few other women who were also interested in lettering—I think we formed our first small guild with five people. Our club is still active, although we changed the name to Calligraphy and Paper Arts Guild because many of us have other interests besides lettering.

H.G. Did you pursue that career in art that you planned on since childhood?

L.E. Yes. In the 1980s, Texas had an oil boom, and I was able to quit my full-time job in 1982 to devote more time to my calligraphy business. By 1986, I stopped working altogether and did calligraphy exclusively. However, a bust usually follows any boom, and the Texas oil market was no different. The bottom fell out and my lettering business dried up—aided I think in part by the surge in home computers and printers. I still did some work, but it was nothing like it had been. As often happens, when that door closed, another opened.

H.G. And what door was that?

L.E. Before the guild was formed, I was in an ongoing calligraphic exchange with many calligraphers all across the country. This was before the Internet was so accessible, and it was so much fun to see new techniques come in waves through the mail. An idea would circulate—and then we would see variations on the theme. At first it was strictly drawing and some eraser-carved decorations on the envelopes and cards, but suddenly rubber stamps appeared on one lady’s work and she changed our direction quickly!

L.E. Absolutely. I had never even heard of such a thing—and at that time, we were restricted to a few colors of dye inks and colored pencils. I remember what a big thing it was when we discovered glossy paper and watercolor markers! And then pigment ink—which absolutely changed stamping more than anything at the time. I also eventually found Rubberstampmadness, the only stamping publication available then.

H.G. How did stamping change things for you?

L.E. For 10 years or so I exchanged mail with around 150 people, and we all taught each other different tricks. Then in the mid 1990s, a magazine called the Stampers Sampler was launched, and it opened my eyes to an entirely new world of rubber stamping art.

The next year, Stampers Sampler asked me to be their featured artist. I had an article there, and also in Rubberstampmadness, when Texas had its first stamp convention in 1996. Some friends and I flew in for the day, and I met lots of stampers and vendors. One vendor asked me to go with them for their premiere at the Hobby Industry Association (HIA) show in Dallas the next January, and I was stunned by my first crafts show. I had never even imagined what was involved.

During this time, I also began making samples for different rubber stamp companies. This was still before a large-scale Internet presence, and I think I was so successful because the rubber stamping industry was fairly small and I was referred to many manufacturers.

L.E. Yes, and it continued to grow. I went again to the HIA show the next year and there I met the publisher and editor of Stampers Sampler and the new Somerset Studio. I was asked to be on the editorial board and to contribute several articles a year on different aspects of papercrafting. During the next few years, I was as busy as I wanted to be—making samples for stamp, paper, ink, paint, and other art supply companies. They used them for trade shows, advertising, catalogs, packaging and project sheets. I also began writing many articles for Somerset Studio and for other rubber stamping publications as well.

H.G. Your career was put on hold for a while, wasn’t it?

L.E. In October 2000, I was in another accident and suffered a closed head injury as well as an extruded disk in my neck. I ended up having to have spinal cord surgery because I was losing the use of my right arm. I couldn’t see to read or work for months after the wreck and wasn’t allowed to work for quite some time after the surgery. I had terrible headaches for over two and a half years—and it is only recently that I am beginning to feel normal again.

H.G. It’s good to know that you are on the mend and back doing what you love to do. I’m sure your friends, readers and students are so thrilled to have you back. Tell us about your teaching.

L.E. I really don’t teach in the strict sense of the word. I did teach for a short time, but I quickly discovered teaching is not for me! I am much too disorganized, and I’m not the kind of person who can go with the flow—I don’t like travel and am happier at home, so although the compensation was really wonderful, it wasn’t worth it to me.

I like to think I am teaching through my articles. Each one covers a different technique as completely as possible and in as much detail as the editor will allow. I have never felt comfortable simply presenting a project, because I feel that a good understanding of technique is what frees the artist to create something on his or her own rather than just copying a project that the teacher provides.

L.E. Yes and no. I think of myself as a craftsman rather than a fine artist, though I actually believe that art is art and it doesn’t really matter what you call it. Who is an artist and who isn’t is the great unanswerable question, as far as I am concerned. Entirely too much time is devoted to discussing this question. How much better it would be if, instead of endlessly dragging this question kicking and screaming to the surface, people would just go do art instead.

H.G. Why do you feel art is so important in people’s lives?

L.E. Art has existed since man and woman found the time to do it—and I think art will never end until the last light goes out on civilization. There is no mystery to art. I believe that it must do one of three things. First, art can just be pretty—creating visually appealing art has been done throughout the ages and, although some scorn it, millions of years of history and millions of artists can’t all be wrong. Secondly, art should evoke an emotion. Last but not least, art should tell a story. And, of course, there’s my definition—art is what you like. I think artists who simply want to confuse, puzzle or shock the viewer are perhaps either lazy or don’t have much imagination.

H.G. Why do you personally make art?

L.E. I may be undereducated and underexposed to the world of art, but I do art because it makes me happy and connected to something bigger than myself. Time is never more peaceful and relaxing for me than when I am in my studio. I am not offended that someone asks me to do something that they need or want. I love the look on people’s faces or to hear the pleasure in their voices when they see something that I made for them. I love it when they say, “This is exactly what I would have done myself if I knew how.” I like to be able to realize their vision.

H.G. Will you share a little about your process—how you work?

L.E. When I have the time to work, as I prefer, I lay the stamp images I intend to use for my next big project on a nearby table. While I am working on the current job, I occasionally look at the “next” group of images that I will use. Eventually, whole completed designs pop into my head. So when I finally start to work with these images, the design process is fairly complete. I have a theory that there are not really that many variations on designs or at least not on the designs I use—so it’s mostly a matter of just letting it happen.

I also want to mention something that is very helpful to me and that others might want to try. When I am having a difficult time with any aspect of my art and even sometimes my other life, I will think about the problem in detail right before I go to sleep. I ask my brain to help me solve the problem or find the missing item or whatever it is I need help with. Almost every time I do this, I awake the next morning with the answer I need! It’s all in my head somewhere—why not find it while I sleep.

L.E. The next thing for me to do after I have let the images roll around in my head for a few days is to choose the colors I will use. I try to use no more than five colors and that includes an accent color like a metallic. I use bits and pieces of these colors on all of the projects so that they seem to have some sort of relationship with each other. I also like to have the same kind of “theme” in each project—whether it is romantic or racy. When I’m doing projects for magazine articles, I basically want everything in the photographs to relate to everything else. I am usually “selling” the technique more than the actual image in my articles. If I were making projects for a stamp catalog, I would focus much more on the actual image and try and show it off in the best light.

H.G. You create for the audience, then?

L.E. Sort of. I always try to think about where my work is going and that it is suitable for its destination. I want to always do my best and cleanest work, because I never know who might see it and where it might lead me. It’s sometimes embarrassing to see something I made many years ago, but as long as I know I did the best I could with what I had, it doesn’t make me suicidal anymore. I think if I were completely satisfied now with something I made a long time ago, then that would mean I haven’t grown very much in skill and technique.

H.G. You feel strongly about mastering technique, don’t you?

L.E. I do think that having a good understanding of the technique and practicing it until you are confident allows you the freedom to begin the creative process. You can’t play a violin unless you know how to play a violin.

I think the very most important thing is to take the time to play and allow yourself the freedom to make mistakes—if you even want to call them mistakes. As long as you learn something in the process, then it really isn’t a mistake after all. And I heartily recommend taking advantage of those “happy accidents” that occur—they are a gift perhaps from the artists who came before you!

People say they don’t have the time to play, and it’s probably true. You have to make the time or take the time from something else. If it’s really important to you, then you may have to let something else go. Before I started my art again in the late 1970s, I had the cleanest most organized home you could imagine. I knew where absolutely anything was at any given moment. I certainly can’t say that now! But doing what I do brings me such greater pleasure than having a spotless house.

L.E. I am not sure if I even have an artistic spirit except that I see the possibilities of things, and I am always struck by certain colors and designs I see all around me. But I’m not sure that everyone doesn’t do the same thing. I don’t think I am expressing any aspects of myself except perhaps my love of color and design and my attention to detail. I’m not a perfectionist by any means, but I like things to be the way I want them to be, and I will redo something a dozen times to get it as perfect as I can. I think you need to work through problems or else you will never grow—but you also have to know when to say that’s the best it can be. For today at least. Tomorrow you might find the perfect tool or hear about the perfect solution.

I have two enormous wastebaskets in my studio, and I have to empty them weekly. I think this might possibly be because of my background in calligraphy. With calligraphy, it is common to do something over and over again until it is as good as it’s going to get. When I did lots of lettering, I would work and work until I had a piece that was acceptable and that I would not mind giving to the client. Then I would make one more copy. Invariably that final piece was always much, much better than the “acceptable” copy. I think it was because having the usable piece gave me total freedom when I made the last version—I was more relaxed and it seemed as if I was in touch with another energy source.

H.G. How has art changed you?

L.E. Art is my sanity. It relaxes me and yet energizes me. It is my greatest pleasure in good times—and a wonderful solace in times of despair. Life does have its ups and downs, but I’ve been lucky. When my husband died, an old friend came to the memorial service because his wife had passed away recently. He wanted to let me know that I could call him if there was anything he could do. I guess there was—because we married a year, a month and a day later—just like in an old folk song! We have been married 10 years this month and it seems like maybe three.

Back to art—I lose all track of time when I am really engrossed in a project and hours pass by in a twinkling. My best studio time is after midnight. I usually start coming alive around 11 o’clock in the evening and after my husband goes to sleep, I like to work. I can get more done from midnight to six in the morning than I can in 10 hours during the day. I think it’s because I am totally uninterrupted and can concentrate on six things at once. This business of art has expanded my knowledge and my friendships in an amazing way. I have been fortunate to meet mostly loving and caring people with only a few bad apples to keep it interesting. I am eternally amazed at the support and encouragement that I have received from virtually total strangers.

H.G. You are a source of great inspiration to others. Can you explain why?

L.E. I think, if anything, my art represents to others that anyone can do what I do. There is no earth-shattering reason why I do art—I’ve always enjoyed it and was good at it—and it has always been rewarding to me in many ways. I have no formal training, and I am not financially able to have every little thing I might want. My studio is a spare bedroom with garage sale furniture, and I live in a wasteland as far as galleries and museums are concerned—we don’t even have a decent place to buy art supplies!

Since I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ll try anything three times or 10 times or whatever it takes to get where I want to go. I think if I can do it, then so can anyone else. I’m not the cleverest girl on the block, but I am as determined as I can be! You have to be willing to do the work when it has to be done.

Harriet Gamble is a free-lance writer from Indianapolis, Indiana.