Keeping Up Appearances Print

Sara Credito is an artist who lives in Pawleys Island, South Carolina. She is the owner and founder of w.i.n.k. art (whimsically inspired, naturally keen). Her style is fluid, impressionistic, and definitely whimsical. She has consistently given back to the community within the scope of her talents, through fundraising, cultural awareness, and art therapy. Her clients are often times return customers, and the reasons are many. The amusing titles of her paintings frequently capture the art collector’s interest almost as immediately as the visual image. The following is a mission statement from Sara. It sums up her passion and understanding of her creative gifts, but mostly it reveals her appreciation and gratitude for the magic that flows from her fingers. From her own words: 'Recently I've come to the understand the 'why' and 'how' realization of the reason that I paint, though not totally. Though I carry my artistic abilities with me, it's the 'where' that mystifies me most. The room where I paint is, in of itself a living, breathing, well of spirit and energy. A source that keeps giving and providing me with unexplainable inspiration, as if there was a chorus of energies leading me sweetly down the rapturous path of beauty, and revelation. It sounds supernatural, but even the word magical or fantasy doesn't seem to totally describe the environment. I can say for certain that others have reacted to my room. When friends and art collectors/clients come to visit I have noticed that they 'notice.' Too many glorious stories to tell, but one in particular I'll draw on, as it was pivotal in my art career and life. Three years ago a world renowned artist came to visit. He knew virtually nothing about me, and came with me, up the winding steps of our home to the second floor where many of my paintings are displayed. It was delightful having him there, and we chatted as we walked through the rooms. I was a bit star struck by him, which is why I think that when he paused pensively over some of my work, it really didn't sink in. But as he crossed the threshold of my gallery, he stopped, made a beautifully sweeping gesture with his arms, and breathed deeply, saying 'ahhh.' As if he sensed something, something amazing. Almost as if there was a shift in the air, or an explanation. Without my knowledge at the time, this experience shaped me and my future. It seems like an ordinary room, a former guest room.