Hello. If you're interested in reading about period movement influences or art analogies, please skip me. I didn't go to
college. I don't know what scumbling or encaustic means, or whether I should be using linseed oil. What I do know is how
stunned I feel to stand at the Met in front of a Repin. And when Bonnard's amazing colors wash over me, I have to hope
my moan wasn't audible. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm low on the intellectual but huge on the sensual.
I was a weird kid who hid in trees. There was always a book in my lap or a pencil in my hand. I grew into the same kind of
woman, but I'm better at making eye contact now. I feel energized by sunshine and things I love and feel an obsession to
record them as best I can. I make no statement other than "I was here, and these things I've loved." Babies. Dogs. Women
with pretty hair. My son. People having a nice lunch. Blueberries.
Human skin thrills me. I love bones and muscle and tone gradations, and those wonderful moist parts that glimmer in
sunlight. Thanks to my supportive husband, I've been blessed with the luxury of experimenting with any raw talents we all
possess but rarely have the time to explore. I thought I'd wind up in an overheated apartment with five kids, rushing to
catch the bus to my factory job. Instead here I am, on this website. Pretty fucking fantastic. Thanks for reading.
college. I don't know what scumbling or encaustic means, or whether I should be using linseed oil. What I do know is how
stunned I feel to stand at the Met in front of a Repin. And when Bonnard's amazing colors wash over me, I have to hope
my moan wasn't audible. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm low on the intellectual but huge on the sensual.
I was a weird kid who hid in trees. There was always a book in my lap or a pencil in my hand. I grew into the same kind of
woman, but I'm better at making eye contact now. I feel energized by sunshine and things I love and feel an obsession to
record them as best I can. I make no statement other than "I was here, and these things I've loved." Babies. Dogs. Women
with pretty hair. My son. People having a nice lunch. Blueberries.
Human skin thrills me. I love bones and muscle and tone gradations, and those wonderful moist parts that glimmer in
sunlight. Thanks to my supportive husband, I've been blessed with the luxury of experimenting with any raw talents we all
possess but rarely have the time to explore. I thought I'd wind up in an overheated apartment with five kids, rushing to
catch the bus to my factory job. Instead here I am, on this website. Pretty fucking fantastic. Thanks for reading.
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| Katrina Wissinger Hoopes |
| Ginger, shelter dog |
| Natalie |
| I See You |
| Cowboys and Tiaras My husband, 2nd from right in the Daniel Boone getup, with neighborhood kids he barely remembers; though he thinks he played doctor with that girl on the left |
| Happy Birthday, dear friend of mine |
| The Uncles, One Fine Sunday |
| Beanie and Zack |
| Nikki |
| Pink Shoes |
| Alley Kids Circa 1962. I made this pencil sketch from an old photo. The tall kid is my brother Wayne. I'm holding the rabbit, my sister Roxie behind me, my cousin Chris in the middle. The other kid is my cousin's neighbor, |
| NYC |
| When She was Young, and Full of Dreams My mother at Cowan's Gap. |
| Young Musician |
| Orange Happy Three of our cats ~ Lester, Ike and Mike. Sorry about the glare from the glass. |
| Ruger, shelter dog |
| Nawla, shelter dog |
| Building Something |
