Frida Khalo was one of the first artists outside of the Impressionists that made an impact on me. The way she was living in chaos, with her body and life, but she used art to express those feelings and was loved for it. I maybe don’t express my pain the same way, but I do feel more free to express myself because Frida led the way.

Johnny Cash went through chaos too, and on the other side he found hope. He continued to wear black to remind others there was work to do, but even though it was dark and filled with heavy reasons, it was hopeful. I try to think of Johnny Cash when things are a bit dark because I want to remember there is hope.

After I graduated from the Young Adult section of the library, I went to Stephen King novels. I think I was most drawn to the imagery – the made up things that were so vivid in my mind. Only an artist could depict those things with words in such a way that they were so vibrant in my mind. I’d often sketch what I thought some of those things were. I think it helped me view the world differently. And again it reminded me that it was good to see the world through an artist’s lens.

I grew up with a grandfather and uncle who loved wrestling, and I wanted to be with them, so I grew to love it too. My grandfather would get so riled up, he’d jump up onto the back of the couch and be swirling his fists in the air – he was about 70 years young then too! I remember going to see a couple WWF shows live. It was magical. They didn’t seem real even in person (because they really weren’t), but it was so special. These people give their everything and all to a sport that is so rough, and hard on them in so many ways. I wanted to pay homage to the people that helped give me so many special memories.

Whenever something hard happens, or something scary happens, or the world seems too much, I wish I could have Mr. Rogers give me advice. I often think about his quote “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” I know that this has been overused a bit in the last few years, but it still helps me. I wish to be a helper in any way that I can. I want to share good, and leave the world a better place than when I got here.

Iron Chef Alex Guarnaschelli is a force to be reckoned with in so many ways. She’s open, honest, strong, brave, true, intelligent, and thoughtful. I appreciate how she views food, how she cooks, and how she teaches. But I’m also completely struck by how she shares her thoughts, and feelings. When someone says she does well under pressure, she admits that she’s a bundle of nerves, and she doesn’t hide it or make it seem like she has it all under control. It’s been a good reminder to me that life can be out of control, but it’s just that out of my control, and I just need to work on the things I can control.

I have only been aware of Stan Rogers for five years or so, but they have been five years of deep diving into his collection and life. His songs have such deep-felt emotions, and they seem to be made even more deep with his smooth baritone voice. A voice that should soothe, but it seems to emphasize his stories in an unexpected way. It hurts a bit that he died so young, because I do believe we needed more from him, more insight into the world, more love. But I am so grateful that he was here long enough to share what he did.

This is a tough one for me to write about, because I need to keep it short and sweet, and I could write for days about what The Weakerthans mean to me. It’s impossible to put it into words. Their songs are short stories, poems really, and we get glimpses into lives, and we are rarely, if ever even told their names, but the songs leave me wanting to know more. How did it end, how is it going, what happened next? I can’t imagine that is an easy thing to do. But they managed to have a whole collection of amazing stories set to music that has something for every feeling and moment in life. (I cannot listen to the Virtute the Cat series though, it rips my heart into too many pieces!)

The Canadian answer to Mr. Rogers was Mr. Dressup, and he was just as wonderful. He taught me to draw; he taught many Canadian children how to draw, how to be kind, how to be silly, and how to care for one another. He had a special draft table set up, and I’d pretend that my clipboard was the same, and I’d set up to be the same as him. I felt like I was right there with him, and like he was talking just to me. He’s the reason I got a draft table for my seventh birthday!