Cheryl Wilson was born in 1979 in Birmingham, Alabama, the third child of Robbie and Diane Wilson. Although her parents were profoundly different people, each contributed to the artist Cheryl would become.
Cheryl’s father, Robbie, was an athlete in his youth. He played for the UAB (University of Alabama, Birmingham) men’s volleyball team and was awarded All-American status, making him one of the best volleyball players in the nation.
Cheryl spoke of her father in the context of his discipline as an athlete: “My father was a professional painter. He was a craftsman with his work. He had crews that did most of the painting, but when he started, he approached his work with the precision of an athlete. I remember he told me he left the workspace tidier than when he started his job.”
Cheryl clearly inherited the athlete’s discipline from her father. When I approached her newly built studio behind her home on Mississippi Highway 30, just east of Oxford, the black metal building stood framed by a backdrop of trees and a neatly covered entryway. Once inside the building, it was clear Cheryl was transforming the space into a studio and gallery for future art exhibitions. Her tools and finished works were thoughtfully arranged, each seemingly placed to catch the dappled rays of western sunlight streaming through the trees on the property.
Cheryl and her four siblings were raised from a very young age by her father and stepmother, Kathy, a nurse anesthetist. Cheryl has vague memories of her young mother before that transition. “My sisters said she was a creative cook. If you are a great creator of food, you have to be a risk taker.” Cheryl mused about the connection between creating food and creating art. “You must be willing to try without fear of failure.”
When the children moved in with Robbie and Kathy, the family left Birmingham and moved out into the country. Robbie and Kathy weren’t satisfied with the schools, so Robbie started homeschooling the children. Cheryl was in the third grade.
I couldn’t imagine. “How in the world did your father manage to homeschool five children?”
Cheryl corrected me. “Oh, no, my siblings wanted to be in a school setting. I was the only one who continued the homeschooling for a few years. And since he worked for himself, he was able to manage his business and my schooling. Kathy helped when she could.”
“And when did you begin with your art?”
“My dad is definitely the one who discovered and fostered my creativity from a very early age. He himself is very creative. And he kept a steady flow of supplies readily available.”
“Drawing became my artistic foundation—it helped me develop an eye.” Cheryl paused,
reflecting for a moment before continuing. “We had a horse on the property, and I spent
so much time in that barn, either drawing or doing homework.”
“I was able to take art classes when I started seventh grade, but by then, I had already practiced so much that it came really naturally. That year, I won first place at the county art show. In high school I began painting extensively. Art became my identity, and even then, my friends associated me with being an artist.”
While art was important in Cheryl’s life, athletics, particularly volleyball, were deeply ingrained in the Wilson family. After high school, Cheryl earned an athletic scholarship to Auburn University, joining the women’s volleyball team and following in her older sister’s footsteps. However, a coaching change during her sophomore year led Cheryl to explore other opportunities, ultimately resulting in her recruitment to the Ole Miss volleyball team.
“I majored in art at Ole Miss, focusing on painting, but my ceramics instructor, Ron Dale, left a lasting impression. He introduced me to the world of pottery” Over time, as her style evolved, the textures and layering techniques she learned from working with clay naturally crept into her paintings.
While at Ole Miss, Cheryl also met her husband, Matt Mossberg. Originally from California, Matt had come to Ole Miss to play baseball. Their shared discipline as athletes created a natural connection. “Two college athletes getting together—we just got each other,” Cheryl said. The couple fell in love and were married six months after graduating.
Eventually, Matt accepted a coaching position at Ole Miss, bringing them back to Oxford for about six years. During that time, he transitioned into sports administration, which led to a job opportunity at a college in Buffalo, New York, and their subsequent move north.
I questioned her, “I just watched a video in which you spoke of going to nursing school during that period in Buffalo. What about your art?”
“It’s interesting. Right after college, I started receiving requests for custom artwork from a loyal following—old friends and people I had met along the way. They wanted portraits, paintings of their pets, or artwork of football stadiums from their alma maters. I was selling paintings all over the country to people I knew.
“But before the move, I thought it would be helpful to supplement our income to help the cost of raising children. Nursing school seemed the right career move at the time.
“When we relocated to Buffalo, we had two little boys, Jack and Pete. I planned to continue nursing school in Buffalo.” But life took a turn for the couple.
Months after the birth of their second son, Pete, Cheryl and Matt’s orderly, disciplined world began to unravel. Cheryl shared their heart-wrenching story on the podcast “Our American Stories.” She recounted that Pete had been a normal baby until about six months, when his ear infections started. By the time Pete was eighteen months, ear tubes followed by adenoid surgery had failed to produce any relief for Pete or the family.
“He began to isolate himself. He just went somewhere; that’s all I can say. We had hopes of Pete coming back to us. That was not what happened. It got worse. He began refusing food.”
For Cheryl to continue nursing school, the couple needed to find a childcare facility. She shared her searching experience on the podcast. “At the end of the first day at a new school, the gentle but concerned director told me, ‘This is not going to work; there is something wrong with your son.’”
After months of searching and evaluations, Pete was diagnosed with severe social and cognitive developmental deficits—a diagnosis that was later classified as autism. “I quit nursing school and dedicated 100% of my time and energy to Pete and Jack” Cheryl recalled.
On the podcast, Cheryl recounted the profound journey of self-awareness she has experienced in the twelve years since Pete’s diagnosis. “In the beginning, it was about me. What had I done wrong? I thought, I have to fix this—it’s not working for us. The tantrums, the bad behavior—why can’t I control him?”
“Meanwhile, my son was suffering. I didn’t understand how he experienced the world, especially with his severe sensory processing challenges. Now, at fourteen years old, I can see that God had given me exactly what I needed as a parent. It was His way of saying, “This is not your son—he’s My son. You are here to care for him, guide him, and point him in the right direction.”
Amid these family trials, Cheryl and Matt had a surprise pregnancy, and Roy, their third son, was born. “But by the time Pete started kindergarten, I realized things had gotten easier with the kids. My sweet Pete was sandwiched between two typical brothers who just loved him. And, what happened to me? I started building canvases.”
As it happened, Matt got a job offer in Oxford, and the Mossberg family came home. It’s been nine years since their move from Buffalo. Matt is in business for himself, the children are in school, Pete is obsessed with motorbikes, and Cheryl has just finished her new studio.
Cheryl smiled as she discussed the evolution of her work. “I was slowly able to cut back on my commissions. They are hard work because you paint things you wouldn’t otherwise paint, and that process can hurt inspiration. I began saying “no” to the commissions three years ago”
For the first time in the interview, I turned my eyes away from Cheryl’s face and focused on the paintings that lined the walls of her studio. These larger-than-life images—a winged horse; a unicorn; a beguiling woman in repose with her quiet control over a wild beast; a creature with the snakes of Medusa circling its head; a sphinx with gilded breasts and wings; a falcon, which symbolizes courage, transforming into the image of a masked woman; a deer with textured and gold leaf horns, Pan in the body of a woman; the eye of a horse whose soul seeps through the canvas—told the story of the pain and glory in Cheryl’s life. The splendor of mythology plays a decisive role in her images, with brilliant colors commanding the onlooker’s attention.
She explained, “As humans, we have things we keep inside. Creative people just let them out. I made a conscious decision to put it all out there and not be afraid of being childlike. Children are fearless. They are the most creative. And I try to take a risk on every single painting so that it can’t be replicated.”
I reacted. “You said that about your mother and her cooking.”
Cheryl paused. “May I show you something? I’ve recently completed three paintings since my mother died three years ago.”
Whether by design or raw emotion, the paintings spoke of the chains that bind us in this world and the freedom that may be found in death.
The first painting depicts a female figure—bound, almost choking—in black lace. Her bare, right thigh reveals that she is on her knees. She’s holding the reins of a horse—the embodiment of what she cherishes most.
The second image shows the woman balancing a column of light in her hand—a symbol of her power. The lace of her dress, now blood-red, falls from her body, which is embedded in stone.
The third painting reveals the woman with her horse again. Everything is white, including the lace that frames the painting. Perhaps this represents Cheryl’s journey through loss and healing, as well as her mother’s path from bondage to liberation. As Cheryl continues to grow as an artist, she carries forward a remarkable legacy and the profound lessons learned from grief and love.
For now, Cheryl is the artist in residence at Heartbreak Coffee, where many of her current paintings are available for purchase. Her new studio will also serve as a gallery where she will be marking a new chapter in her artistic journey.
As Cheryl channels her emotions through the paintings of spectacular creatures with vibrant colors, the possibilities are endless. She inspires. She beckons.
