Kristie H. Cross

KrisCross Art
Staunton, VA

I was born in late February in the swirls of snow storm at a hospital named King’s Daughters in Staunton, Virginia. When I was a kid, I carried a crayon in one hand and a fly-swatter in the other and spent my days coloring; making concoctions of dirt and flowers and other bits of nature in a humorous mixing bowl and stirring it all with a wooden spoon; swatting bugs (because a monster ant had nearly bit off the top of my finger when I was three); and befriending feral cats.

As an adult, I frittered away most of the years watching clocks in boring office jobs. After dropping out of college twice, I finally earned my bachelor’s degree in Classics/Latin from UVA at the age of 38. Since hardly anyone still speaks Latin, I went back to boring office jobs until I started selling real estate five years ago. Since I like to be on the go and making connections—whether it’s connecting people to other people or people to houses—realtoring is pretty fun.

When the pandemic hit, I was in the process of redoing my guest room and needed some art to throw on the walls. I started watching YouTube art tutorials and buying art supplies (all the supplies the little kid me would’ve loved) and thus began an obsession/addiction with art/mark-making and a eternal quest for flow-state. Every now and then, I hit it—mostly when I’ve been in a painting frenzy and up all night and slightly tipsy. My greatest love is dirty ol’ charcoal on plain drawing paper.

Before I did visual art, I wrote my heart out on a blog on Medium. My favorite things to write were absurd personal memoirs and poems.

Currently, I am fortunate enough to live in a magical house hidden by enormous, oak trees with amazing rhythms in their tangles of branches and spend most of my time there in a cozy, little studio that used to be plant room where I’ve ruined the walls and floors.

And I still live in Staunton, VA where snow sometimes swirls in February; but someday, I am going to move to Calgary and wear layers of woolen and learn to ice-skate and befriend another cat and name him John Singer Sargent and call him John Singer for short.

Most of this is true….

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