I remember the smell of the oil paint, the feel of the brush in my hand, the delight of seeing the colors smeared onto the canvas. Every part of my 3 year old body was immersed in the experience, and something magical awakened in me. After I left the scene, I heard my angry father shout, “What happened to my painting?!”
Me at the age of wonder and innocence.
I grew up in the rural village of Alden, New York, USA. I loved to read enchanting stories about powerful goddesses. Whenever I had blank paper, which was mostly when my mom opened up a package of stockings, I drew the divas I imagined in those tales. To me, fairy tales and myths were real.
Outside, on the sprawling land, I marveled at dew drops on a spider’s web, and discovered ancient fossils. I remember feeling the sky becoming part of me as I breathed, and I found forever in the black between the stars.
In the basement, I lost myself in music, dancing till my feet were sore.
I was full of wonder.
In school, during art classes, I was so immersed in the creative process I lost my sense of time.
I was 13, when my mom married my step dad, who is a fabulous artist. I was surrounded by more art supplies than seemed possible. He taught me many painting techniques, and brought me to The Albright Knox Art Gallery, where I saw works by the great masters. When I was 14, he booked me my first gallery exhibit, in Lancaster, New York. My paintings of flowers on barnwood sold out.
I was 17 when I moved out. I was pregnant at 18. With no support, except my childhood wonder, and my passion for creating art, I decided to give birth. I continued to make art, and was commissioned to paint my first album cover, a race car, and several murals. I began collecting art books and attending art classes.
I moved back to Alden, into a historic house, with my daughter. It revived my interest in history, which in school, was all about memorizing dates of wars. I learned from the local historic center that it was a major part of The Underground Railroad. I felt the presence of ghosts, who shared stories in my dreams. Decades later my landlord's son wrote a historical novel about the house and the area, titled, The Hidden Light of Northern Fires.
At 24, I met my husband and I moved to his home state of New Mexico in 1993, with our children, my most important creations.
Linda Storm and Gary Storm
I sought for them the best education, and chose Montessori. I became a Montessori teacher, and went to school with them. I studied art during evening classes, and online
My friends, and actors, Maura Dhu, and Wes Studi began purchasing my art and now own more pieces than any other collectors.
Wes Studi, Maura Dhu Studi, Larry Mitchell, Claudia Weimer in my gallery
An artist friend (who is also the contractor who built Ringo Starr’s Santa Fe home) invited me to rent a Canyon Road gallery with him. A prominent Santa Fe hotel invited me to curate two of their conference rooms. So organic was the development of my art that I didn’t realize it was attracting global attention until in 2018, when a curator and gallerist from Italy invited me to exhibit my goddess paintings in her gallery in Arezzo, Tuscany.
At the opening, I was surrounded by Italian speaking guests, and the press, all eager to see my work. Not knowing their language, I trusted my art to speak for me. One woman cried as she stood before one of my paintings for a very long time, others sought me in the crowd to offer cheek to cheek kisses, and to say Complimente! A man told me I was a misteriosa femina. The experience was confirmation to me, that my art is a language. I found out later that a reporter, who was an ex-priest, mocked my goddesses. To me it was more validation that my story was seen.
Below I am with artist Vincenzo Calli who is not singing opera.
We live in a magical world, and I live to depict it.
I no longer paint on the work of other artists, without their permission.
Rasami Storm, Linda Storm, Juniper Storm