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I was born in Czechoslovakia during the "RED regime" (yes, with Stalin's portrait displayed in the front of my classroom) to two very free spirited individuals who strived for perfection in all their actions and fought for honor and freedom. My parents were willing to risk it all. My father led an anticommunist band which was rapidly growing in popularity. So with one foot in a prison cell, my father knew we had to leave. This leads us to the story of the two year long escape. Trainbound out of our homeland, my father destroyed our passports so that noeone would know where we were running away from and could not send us back. He told us not to speak Czech arround any officials as not to give us away and he spoke to them only in German insisting that we want to go to West Germany. So we, the "political refuges" (dad, mom, sitter and I) embarked on our journey by train from Czechoslovakia, through Hungary to a (5 star) immigration camp in Italy. Two weeks later, not impressed with the options given to us, we continued by foot. Crouching in tall grass and crawling on red soldier sand over the Monte Carlo Mountain border (hoping not to get shot during the 24hr adventure) down into France. Then, by luck or the pure kindness and pity of an old French train conductor we took a train to semi freedom of an immigration camp in Donaueshingen West Germany (it was actually an old concentration camp) Not feeling quite free enough, two years later we got on a plane (destination, Sunny San Diego) Ten years later "The Velvet Revolution" called for a costume change from red to blue. And so the government who denied their people of self improvement and achievement of excellence and deprived them of pride, was much obliged to take the money they had stolen from one of the richest countries in Europe and engage it on their own behalf in a new democratic system. Needless to say, we were forgiven for our treason against that government and given amnesty. This meant that we were allowed to return back home and not be imprisoned or prosecuted. And so in 1992 we did just that, we went home. I attended a Fine Arts University in Usti Nad Labem, Czechoslovakia for six months. But with new politics that arose during the "Change", which were not in favor of a Czech girl returning home after 10 years in "America", I decided to leave once again. This time, leaving everyone I loved, I went to Vancouver B.C. Two years later (married) I traced my footsteps back to San Diego for a few years. But in 1997 I came to Las Vegas, and have been here since, going home every few years to be with family. And YES I have felt TORN. And the words "Gde Domov Muj" from the Czech national anthem, meaning "where is my home?" have haunted me all these years. It has only been in the last five years, after a heart braking and almost life blanching ten year marriage which obvioulsy from my tone ended in divorce, that I have started to regain my taste for life. Starting the "In Search Of Me Campaign" (just humor me), I dove back into my arts. Hungry for expression which I had stifled for so long, I rediscovered my lost passions. Hoping to reconnect with my experiences and this time not let them smother me in a corner, but let them lead me down a path of incredible memories and lessons of LIFE. And this is how I came to be HERE, with YOU, sharing the things most dear to me. The highest goal I have for my work is, TO INSPIRE the way that I have been INSPIRED TO GROW. ! ! THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME ! ! !

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