First Memory

[Mary Marinangeli]

I recently recalled what is perhaps my oldest memory. My parents bought a new pair of beautiful burgundy leather greyson chairs to add to the den of our family home when I was around 3 years of age. As soon as I had a moment alone with the chairs I found a paper clip and felt the random urge to unravel it. With no shame I used it to deeply score the fresh surface on my parents' brand new furniture investments. The marks scarred the furniture for as long as I can remember; it became a part of them. For many years, my mother and father would ask me, 'just why did you do that?!' And, for a long time I truly didn't realize my intentions towards their new leather loungers. But recently it dawned on me that the moment I decided to unravel that paper clip was the moment I wanted to be an artist. It was the moment where I wanted to make my mark on something that I knew was going to be seen often and stir a reaction to it. To this day I truly feel terrible about damaging their beautiful chairs, however I now look back on it with a smile, because the choice in doing so feels now as if it paved my path towards finding a voice within my art.