I met Ms. Gatewood in a drawing class at Averett College in early 1988. Drawing was the only class I could take that semester. I had contemplated attending a more “prestigious” college or art school until this class. Studying under Ms. Gatewood in the basement pool studio, surrounded by tile and cigarette smoke, my life was forever changed. I would never see the world the same.

It became clear that if you wanted to be a good painter, Averett was where you needed to be. And you wanted to learn from Ms. Gatewood.

She had the sharpest eye I’ve ever witnessed and could drill into a painting fast; she knew when you rushed, tickled a painting, when you were hiding mistakes, or when you cut corners. And she told you point blank—there was no faking your way through it. If you made it to the end of the semester, you always knew where you stood; you knew your skill level, good or bad. You could accept it, lie to yourself, or work hard to push higher. She was looking for those who pushed higher.

I recall that at the end of the semester, she asked us what grade we thought we had earned and why. We wrote our appeals on a piece of paper. That’s how studio class grading worked. If you earned what you put down, you got that grade. If you did not earn it, she told you what you earned. Her standards were high, and she expected you to meet them.

From a casual drawing class to a ten-year journey as her studio assistant, mentee, and friend.

To most, she is Maud, but to me, she will always be Ms. Gatewood.