Art is my air

If you’ve ever tried to hold your breath, you’ve noticed three things; time passing by slowly, your mind focusing on the lack of oxygen, and, eventually, the demand to breathe no matter how hard you pinch your nose. An absence of air is how I feel when I’m not making art.

Art is not my passion; art is part of me. It is my memory, hope, sorrow, joy, balance, what allows me to grow, appreciate, and learn about myself. I can’t remember a time where I wasn’t making art. The only difference between my practice of art today and when I was 3 years old is the fact that now I share what I make with the world.

I recently live painted at Evelyn’s Park’s opening events. The park is a special place thanks to the hard-working people in the community who put it together, and I feel proud to have been part of its opening. It was the first time I had ever been surrounded by a live audience, which was scary and exciting. I pour my soul into every canvas that I throw out into the world. I don’t get to see people’s reaction to my work. I don’t stand next to my exhibited work listening to every comment made about me.

This made my experience at Evelyn’s very intense, but there was nowhere to hide. I couldn’t throw away my piece if I didn’t like it, or walk away from it for a month to come back to it with a clear mind. Every brushstroke would be seen. Live painting at the park taught me a lot, and I am pleased with the pieces that came out of it.

Between developing skill, contests, installations, classes, murals, leadership opportunities, internships at galleries, commissions, and selling my work, I’ve dug into the complex concept of art. Tasting the “art world” has made me addicted to abstract questions: What is art? How do we judge art? I realize that my job as an artist is not to answer, but instead to deepen questions.

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