Life/Art
This is a story about my life. This is a story about my art. There really is no difference.
Painted Beginnings
Most artists are artists before they are born, like a dancer who two-stepped before he or she could walk. I feel that I was an artist before I had the capacity to realize it. I did funny things like rearrange my room a lot. I’d move all the furniture around to different places by myself, even my heavy dresser. I collected boxes, not necessarily for storage, hoarding them in my closet one inside the other like Russian nesting dolls. One summer my mother discovered this idiosyncrasy and was severely disturbed, thinking I was mentally unwell. Time passed and I proved to grow into a stable, reasonably intelligent teenager. Like many, I took art in school and showed some mild promise in drawing and painting. However, due to difficult life circumstances I lacked the conceptual imagination and frankly the motivation to create consistent, good works in class. I didn’t think I would continue art but I was encouraged to sign up for a course on Impressionism my junior year. This course was over a year of weekly after school lessons that culminated to a summer painting trip to France. We were to paint “en plein air” just like the French impressionists. It was on that summer trip that I turned 18 in Paris, and really began to understand how important art was to me and to my life.
Art School/ Art Kids
I made the commitment to art my senior year of high school and thusly applied to be accepted into the art program at the University of Memphis. Just like my previous study of art, the beginning was rocky. I didn’t know what kind of artist I wanted to be. Conceptual? Realistic? What were my motivations? Why did I create? Apon portfolio review to get into upper division classes, I was accepted into the department on a probationary basis. The selection committee found my drawing skills to be lacking. How could this be?! Drawing was what I was most confident in doing? Thankfully, however I gained access to Upper division classes where I met both my mentors (my professors) and my best friends (the art kids). It was at this time I also discovered my deep love for Modern and Contemporary Art. In my art history classes, we examined many art movements that were more recent than the 1880s. My favorite movement was abstract expressionism These conceptual and explorative artists were pushing boundaries just like the Impressionists did in the 19th century, but in the Post World War II society instead. They used vivid movement and non-representational symbolism to express emotional, political, and social themes in an abstracted way. Finding the abstract expressionists was like reuniting with old friends. I felt like I found a home in an art style. A place to stay a while, explore, experiment, and eventually start my own art practice.
Eye: An Obsession
Out of this art historical inspiration, I began making quick, repetitive, raw works using the symbol of the eye. At first, it was the visual of the whole eye, with the lid and personality of an individual or emotion. It seemed natural enough. But soon it turned into an expression of something much bigger. I was obsessively drawing the eye in my sketchbooks, over and over. I began seeing it everywhere photographing and documenting its frequency. Using different mediums, I began to dissect the different aspects of the eye. I made pieces that highlighted the gaze, the iris, etc. and both in an abstracted and then representational style. Out of the numerous pieces, I began to understand what I liked about this type of subject matter. The symbol was rich with history because of all the different interpretations people imbedded to it. The eye helped me get to humanity, and by doing so begin question the cultural history, psychology, physiology and individual experience of that existence. What makes us human? The eye began to reveal its secrets, or at least reveal my complicated view of humanity. My work from this time is raw, emotional, complex, seeming a little violent and perpetually strange. Many of these descriptions are still characteristic of my work now.
Installation What?!
Although drawing and painting was my home, my heart began to wander. After experiencing other art classes like ceramics and sculpture, I began trying to incorporate other aspects into my work that were more typical of 3D mediums, such as scale and space. The best representative of this transition is the “Cloud Eye” piece. Still made up of drawings, however its scale and placement in space are the main definers. Upon the critique of this piece, one of my favorite professors said I should really research Installation art. Installation art by definition is “an artistic genre of three-dimensional works that often are site-specific and designed to transform the perception of a space.” I began researching this work and fell madly in love with so many incredible female artists, to the point of reckless abandonment. By this time folks, I was nearing my senior thesis and with very little time for trial and error, decided to completely switch from drawing and painting all together to focus on one, huge three-dimensional installation for my final show. Honestly, it’s all a bit hazy at this point. All the subtly and details of the rash decision-making of a young artist nearing graduation is lost on me now. All I remember is that the physicality of the task was immense. Fueled by stress, madness, and the undeniable fear of change, I created Woven in the course of a semester. I was very moved and proud of the work I put into that piece. Determined to continue installation after graduation, I made a couple more pieces. One called Kissing Booth for the Dirty Sexy Happiness show, which was a group show of my closet artist friends in the student-run gallery that I helped create/sustain at school. The piece was a maze of bed-sheet like fabric suspended in air. Crowned with a loose wire sculpture hanging close to the ceiling to mimic a box spring mattress. We lowered the lighting in my corner to create a more intimate ambience. At this point, people would ask me what type of art I made. I would tell them installation art. Almost every single time the person would reply, “Installation what?!”
“Bad” Artist
One of the worst feelings for me, as an artist, is struggling to explain my craft to people because frankly, I’m not your traditional artist. I don’t consistently make paintings or sculptures that people buy and put in their homes or public spaces. I don’t make money from art alone. I work a 9 - 5 pm job that I love, then go home and create in my studio. I haven’t attempted to sell any personal works really. I have done commissions but again it’s not my bread and butter. I haven’t gone to Graduate school and I don’t know when I’ll be able to in the future. I constantly get rejected from shows, grants, and residencies. If you are evaluating my practice using these qualifications, I’m definitely failing. I am a “bad” artist. This feeling of failure was something I struggled with personally for years after art school. As a graduate of a Fine Art Program, I was trained to seek legitimacy and validity through traditional art institutions. However, as time passed I began to use a new mode of evaluation. I have poured my heart and soul into my art and I persistently create even though it’s difficult. Making art is no picnic, it takes time, effort, energy, and money. I am investing these things in my art practice even alongside other responsibilities. The gift of being an artist is this unique mode of expression, this voice that I want to share. And there is a beautiful community of people who want to experience art, largely made up of other artists, collectors, critics, and enthusiasts. The curse of being an artist is sometimes its hard to be in that community and feel truly seen and valued. I love being a part of this community as both a participant and witness. I love all Art and I firmly believe there is room for all artists and all types of art in this world. I strive to prove that with my practice. It’s so satisfying watching people interact with my work. However the interaction of myself with art that happens when I create is the real magic. How that interaction changes me and how it changes art as a whole is what I consider divine. I continue to create not just for myself but for this community of people who think, feel, express, and interact in this unique way, but more importantly, I continue to create art because art deserves to be made, honored, and enjoyed. It doesn’t have to be perfect or eternal to be valued, which is why most of my work is temporary and ever-changing.
Carapace: Crack that shell
Evolution is really just a fancy word for change. My current project Carapace is all about evaluating how I’ve evolved as a person because of my experiences in life and art. Just like in life, my previous pieces of art are a continuum of a bigger story expressed through the work. Many times I incorporate old elements or even whole pieces into the new projects. Nothing is ever final, everything is evolving. In this new work I draw inspiration from nature, animal imagery and symbolism. I use recycled material, discarded scraps and other non-traditional material to add texture, history, and depth to the art. Relics and momentos play a large part thematically as well. Slowly, I am honing my story-telling ability through art. With time and each piece I make, I gain more courage to trust myself to uncover more information and share in more detail. I have become more confident in my ability to explain my personal narrative. Striving for honesty and authenticity as a person in life, there are parts of me I keep hidden in art. The uglier, sadder, weaker parts that shame me; the bad experiences, imperfections and dysfunction, it’s all present just coded for only the shrewdest decipher to view. Art facilitated through vulnerability and openness is the hardest and most rewarding to make. For the first time, I feel like I am reaching forward in art and life, more directly and wholeheartedly than ever before. This new exposure is exciting and scary . I am half-worried and half-elated about where this journey leads. I am excited and ready to crack open my protective shell, but actually I couldn’t have done any of this without so many people. Thank you to all who have supported and accompanied me this far. Thank you to all who took the time to read this excerpt. Thank you to my family, friends, and mentors for loving, supporting, and advising me. Thank you to the greater art community for continuing to exist. Thank you to all the kind people, the empaths, and the peacemakers. This world needs more of you. Thank you to all the artists. Let’s get to work.