Tracie Thompson

The swamp buggy is one of the earliest things I remember. I was four, maybe five, and we were in the Everglades in the buggy my dad built: a motor, a platform with seats, and a set of huge tractor tires. In the sawgrass around us, wild lilies were blooming, stalks of them with long curving petals like bright white fireworks. And then Dad drove us into a pond, deeper and deeper, laughing the whole time because he knew something his wife and kids did not. He knew those big tires would serve as both pontoons and paddles. We drove across that pond, impossible as it seemed, and ever since then I have had dreams about driving through water, keeping my foot on the gas so I don’t go under.

The sense of wonder, of exploration, has never left me. It is the electric current that powers every piece of art I create, across every subject, style and medium. It only got strong after I left Florida in 2008 for the Twin Cities and its vast, vibrant arts community. I’ve graduated art school; I’ve studied in Paris; I’ve painted giant murals and tiny miniatures. I’m teaching classes and learning from other artists; I work in oils, acrylics, watercolors, and bits of wood and metal I find lying on the ground. And through everything, there’s the energy I first remember from that day in the swamp, as deep and dark as the pond and as beautiful as the lilies.