To look at her paintings, bursting with joy and color, one would never suspect that artist Mikki Senkarik has emerged from an appallingly difficult past to her current position as an artist in great demand. The Florida-born painter explains the seeming dichotomy quite simply: "It's impossible to depict light in a painting unless you have dark areas. My past personal life of unspeakable darkness lets me spill my current light of joy into my work." Sexually abused repeatedly as a child by her biological father and older brother, the pain and repercussions of her trauma lasted well into adulthood.

"My life was full of ugliness; the shame of being abused left me with incredibly low self-esteem," Senkarik admits. Her emotional turmoil manifested itself in a physical manner, and the budding medical illustrator was diagnosed with bladder cancer at the age of 19. After surgery and chemotherapy she was eventually declared cancer-free, graduated with honors from the Medical College of Georgia and embarked on a flourishing career. In the 1980s, she illustrated 47 major medical textbooks and was awarded the Illustrated Medical Book Award of Excellence on five different occasions.

Unfortunately, her personal life and her professional life were exact opposites. "I married an alcoholic and became a classic enabler," she recalls. "He stopped working the week we were married, and I thought I deserved no better. For eight years I believed my life was normal, enduring his beatings, as I felt it was my fault when lie got upset. I felt I was damaged goods, and I was the best I could do."

Senkarik's sorrowful life took a radical turn in 1989 when she had a chance encounter with a man named Jack, himself an accomplished artist, and ultimately, a fine judge of talent. "I was frail and emaciated, carrying 90 pounds on a 5'8" frame, with black front teeth and wearing coke bottle glasses," she remembers. "He looked at my portfolio and told me two things that eventually changed everything for me. The first was that I could become a great easel painter, even better than he was. The second was that he could tell I was a very sick young lady."

In time, Mikki divorced her first husband, and her relationship with Jack blossomed. "At that first meeting, Jack told me two things that started my life back on track, but later he asked me two things that helped to complete my metamorphosis. He asked me if I would spend the rest of my life with him, and he asked if he could teach me to paint. I said 'yes' to both questions."

Senkarik grew up around horses, so, when she began her formal training with her new husband, they seemed a natural subject for her fine eye for detail. Another twist of fate, this time an auto accident, led her to her current metier-the magnificently colored flowers that explode off the canvas like a Maui sunset. "Jack was in an accident, injured his shoulder, and couldn't paint with his right arm," recalls Senkarik, who lives with her husband on a small island in the Gulf of Mexico. "He started painting left-handed, and all he could manage at first were loose impressions of flowers. I followed suit, and they began selling immediately. Jack suggested I put the horses out to pasture."

Even though his work is collected internationally, Senkarik's husband cedes the spotlight to Mikki, who is considered an up-andcoming talent. "Even though 40% Of the Country's artists are women, they represent only 2% of the work hanging in museums," he says, explaining his aversion to publicity. "I've had my day in the sun, and now it's her time to shine."

Explaining her recurrent themes of architecture and flowers, Senkarik says, "Flowers seemed to germinate in my mind, and grow on my canvases. I think the crust of my shame was broken by the love and support Jack gave me, and it let tiny flowers break through and begin to bloom. Architecture reflects the solid foundation of my life. I no longer lead a discombobulated existence. My life has structure and stability, and the strong building is a testament to that part of me."

Mikki has sold well over two million dollars of paintings in the last decade and can't produce art fast enough to meet the growing demands of her galleries on both coasts. Her first piece sold for just $200; now her original paintings vary from $1,500 to $15,000, depending on size and complexity.

"My work is tremendously rewarding," she concludes. "Probably my favorite part is reading the letters that collectors send to the galleries after their purchase. Many of them mention that the paintings make them so happy. I love hearing that, because that's the way I now feel about life."

Reprinted from
Millionaire Magazine,
August 2000