Clare Wuellner

In childhood, I had two obsessions: art and horses. My parents deemed neither worth pursuing. So, I embraced science.

My Ph.D. advisor was both academician and artist. On a stroll through campus, we were gobsmacked by a huge persimmon tree bespeckled with brilliantly orange fruit, contrasting perfectly against the bright blue sky. Byron remarked, “I’ve always thought of myself as a scientist by training, but an artist at heart.”

My innards leaped.

It had never occurred to me that creating could be an essential part of a person—an essential part of me. The seed was planted.

In 1997, I moved to Austin for a postdoctoral position, met my husband, parted ways with academia, and started a family. Through it all, I made art.

In 2018, I started riding horses again. Unfortunately, a horse threw me. I sustained a concussion, muting my cognition and memory, and my ability to talk, walk, and balance. With months of therapy, I've progressed but will never get back to “normal.”

My disability has put limits on my life but freed me to pursue a career as an artist.

And so, finally, I get to say, “I’m an artist,” which is an amazing thing.