Molly Zenobia

Both my parents started taking piano lessons the summer before I was born. I don't really know what the significance of this is except it might be an interesting fact, being that the piano is my main instrument, one of my main loves. I was born December 8th, 1979... even at the start I was an insomniac. My mother has countless stories of me quietly trying to stay up and not sleep. She says I didn't want to miss anything. She would put me in my crib at night, but by morning sheıd find me passed out in some random place in the house. She seems to remember finding me in doorways a lot. I don't often find myself spending time in doorways any longer, except for the occasional earthquake, having grown up in California.

'm 23 now. (This info is assuming no one felt like doing the math.) I tend now to spend quality time with the piano, books, the outdoors, my imagination, family and friends, music, paints, or whatever sudden spontaneous inspiration lends itself, like sitting up all night to catch the sunrise over this little lake I live above.

I graduated from college 2002. Now that was an experience. When anyone asks me what I learned in college, I say this... "In college I learned that I don't really know anything." College was quite humbling.

Itıs a luxury to be drawn to a book and find the time to read it ­ to go to a museum and spend hours studying just one painting ­ to stay up all night and see a sunrise with the ducks. Artistıs hours. Feeding the eyes like a glutton. But nothing goes to waste. This career I am pushing for is constantly humbling. I believe that everything I create comes through the voices of what I experience, so I have this cycle of filling myself with everything I can (so to speak). If I didnıt create, Iıd be insane. Certifiable. If it wasnıt piano keys, itıd be violin strings, or paint brushes, or clay, or chisels ­ whatever I could get my hands on. Itıs this unstoppable need to translate and transform the universe into some way I can express my take on being alive. I didnıt watch basketball in high school. I played it, and I played it as a contact sport. I didnıt watch TV. I painted life sized versions of things standing under a fourteen foot tree on the (high) walls of my bedroom . I donıt knowŠ it seems Iım either absorbing and reflecting, or traveling at the speed of sound. I like the edges of the spectrum. I love the rush, the relief, the colors. Itıs the only thing I know.

~Molly Zenobia

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