Beatrice Wood

I don't know when I first heard about Beatrice Wood, but I remember that when I did hear of her I felt like I already knew her. We have similar last names, and my grandmother's name was Beatrice. I love her drawings and the ceramics she is famous for, but more than anything I love the way she lived her life. She lived to be 105 years old, and said her last 25 years were her most productive as an artist. She wrote this in the opening of her autobiography, titled "I Shock Myself."
 

For a long time I hesitated writing about my life. For the mind is tricky, colors with infinite subtlety the ramifications of any act. In the early part of my life, it is as if I made nothing but mistakes. I am convinced we would not be on this earth, if we did not make mistakes; only through them do we learn. But through the bad I was always battling for the light. "No" may be the most important word in the English language. Now, near the end of my days, it falls glibly from my tongue. Much protected in childhood, I wanted to know what the world was like, willing to pay any price to understand humanity. I paid the price.