Laura shares how a childhood Christmas gift, life in the Rockies, and a love for the outdoors sparked her journey as a self-taught fine artist.
By Laura Wood
I’ve been drawing and painting for as long as I can remember—but if I had to pick a moment where it all really started, I’d say it was Christmas, around the age of eight. That’s when my mom gave me my very first easel. It wasn’t fancy, but to me, it was everything. With it came paints, brushes, and a sense of possibility I’ve been chasing ever since.
I grew up in the Rockies, in a big family of eight, raised by a strong and resilient single mom. She had her hands full—no doubt about that—but she always made sure I had what I needed to keep creating. When she couldn’t, I made do with whatever I could find at school. We didn’t have a lot, but what we did have was nature: rivers, mountains, open skies. I spent hours outside, hiking and fishing, soaking in the colors, the textures, the light. Those memories still live in my work today.
People ask if I studied art, and the truth is—I didn’t. I’m a self-taught artist. For a while, I let the world convince me that art couldn’t be more than a hobby. I was even told I’d never become a professional artist. And for a while, I believed it. But when I met my husband, Joe, and we started raising and training bird dogs together, something in me woke up again. I saw beauty in them. I picked up my pencils and pastels again. And I haven’t put them down since.
Now, I paint what moves me—landscapes, animals, quiet moments in nature. Sometimes it’s from a photo. Sometimes it’s from memory. Always, it’s from the heart. I try to capture the stillness, the awe, the peace. And if my work brings that same feeling to someone else, then I know I’ve done what I was meant to do.
This is where it all started. And in many ways, I feel like I’m just getting going.