A bald baby girl was born in the golden state.  Her parents took her all across the land & ocean trying to find out why their baby had no hair.  In Lancaster they rubbed lavender & olive oil on her head; but still no hair.  In Merced they gave her a baby brother; but still no hair.  In Minot they fed her strawberries; but still no hair.
     One day when the bald baby girl found a green crayon on the floor & she began to scribble, her mum saw a yellow hair sprouting from her head.  Her mum scrambled to find as many crayons as she could to give her baby.  More hairs began to sprout on her head. Bald baby girl’s (who was growing out of her moniker by the day) mum & dad gave their daughter markers & paper, paint & brushes, chalk & erasers, pencils & drawing boards, tissue paper & scissors, fabric & thread.
     As baby girl drew, painted, doodled, sculpted, designed, sewed, folded, wrote & created, her head was finally covered in whipped honey hair.
     When it was time for bald baby girl to go to college she had learned that it is very difficult to make a living as an artist unless you are dead.
     She was interested in so many things.  Mum, Dad & teachers said to focus.  She did not listen; she learned about totems, Tutankhamun, and Toulouse-Lautrec and how to draw things that hold still.  She dabbled in Chinese calligraphy & got her hands sandy in Botany 101.  She learned how to tailor, and what silk smells like when it’s burning.  She learned how to design things that are meant to be useful & how to defend your decisions in a bowl full of critics.  
     She loves a challenge, loves to try her fingers at something new, or bask in the compliment of doing something twice.  So ask her what you have in mind for your next project that needs some creative authority, I have heard she is beyond capable.