I’ve always been one to color outside the lines. When I was little my mother once left me unattended with my Crayola markers. She came into the room a minute later to find that my marker had wandered off the paper, along my wrist, and up my arm. Granted this isn’t necessarily out of the ordinary for a young child yet looking back it feels like a beginning.
My mother is an artist. Not in the traditional way though. Her mediums consist of finger-paints, construction paper, child safety scissors, and obscene amounts of glitter. Having a preschool teacher as a mother meant every childhood art project was praised, saved, and used a month later as a sample in her own classroom. I remember asking to see her college portfolios and rifling through pages and pages of sketches, paintings, and prints. I now use one of her old portfolios to store my own masterpieces. Delicate representations of myself pressed flat and bound together with well-worn, threadbare strings.
My father is an artist. It wasn’t until I found an old portfolio from some class he took in college that I realized this truth. Though I should’ve realized it sooner. It only takes a glance at all the projects he’s done on our house or a look around the yard of our small rural property full of colorful blooms and rich vegetation. Every green thing well cared for. Only overgrown enough to add a touch of wild whimsy.
My brothers are artists. The older one fills the air with musical melodies and lyrics he makes up on the spot. I tease him about whatever song is stuck in his head as it’s often some love song that sounds like he is singing to me. When he’s not humming a tune, he’s scribbling away furiously in his notebook about anatomy, care plans, and the next set of nursing exams. The younger brother, while a little less motivated in his studies, is very motivated in his baseball. He’s put years into perfecting the timing in his swing, and the curve of his pitch; much like the repetitive stroke of an artist practicing ellipses.
I am an artist. It feels weird to give myself this title. Looking back I don’t remember when I learned my colors or my shapes. I do remember one of my elementary school teachers attempts to teach me how to “properly hold a pen/pencil” because I was holding it incorrectly. She even gave me a pencil grip to help me with this skill. By the end of the day the pencil grip had disappeared and much to her consternation I didn’t care as much as she thought I should.
In the fourth grade we did a painting project for class where we used Analogous color schemes, of course my teacher didn’t use the term Analogous. My friend painted his entire paper a blend of red, orange, and yellow. He informed the class that it was a depiction of a house, trees, etc. Only everything was on fire. I thought it was incredibly stupid, but equally genius.
In 5-7th grade there was a girl in the class just above mine who had an incredible talent for drawing people. I always aspired to be able to draw as well as her. I realized that I’ve accomplished this and more, however, I’ve also realized that figure drawing tests my patience.
In Highschool I took art every quarter as an elective. My art teacher was a supportive and energetic presence. She always made me feel as if I could accomplish anything. Throughout school I constantly doodled in the margins of all my notebooks. I had to explain to my teachers that “Yes, I am listening.” Thankfully, my grades proved I wasn’t too much a distraction for myself. If I wasn’t doodling I was crocheting, or tying friendship bracelets, or giving my friends colored tattoos with watercolor crayons.
I started University with goals of finishing a business degree, but gained an art degree as well along the way. Being a creative in the business world is unique. Not that art and business don’t correlate. The ability to think outside-the-box is vital for a business’s survival. There needs to be constant innovation. Merely, I constantly found myself having to explain to my classmates why I didn’t have a business concentration to pair with my business degree. It’s no surprise that I loved my marketing and advertising classes. Learning how to reach people, to create interest, through various techniques and mediums is something I really enjoy.
Between my junior and senior years of college I served abroad as a student missionary in Palau. I originally wanted to serve in Europe, maybe have a chance to explore. I waited for months to finally hear that the Europe positions had already been filled. Palau was my backup, Palau surprised me, Palau was where I needed to be. My title was long and vague. I was the librarian, study hall supervisor, and substitute teacher. While I did fill all these roles, and loved the job, I additionally was able to teach art electives. The best part of my week was Monday and Wednesday 8th period. The first semester we focused on introductory drawing and the second semester was introductory painting. Even though class was short I was determined to give the students a taste of art history. Once a week we would have an art history spotlight where we discussed major art eras and key artists from each. I am so proud of each of my students and the skills they developed, as well as the passion they all showed for their work.
I’m not entirely sure when it happened. My fellow missionaries realized early on that I had a knack for artistic endeavors and asked me to assist with anything in these areas. I made numerous signs for airport welcomes, banners for school functions, structures and backdrops for banquets and graduations. I’ve lost track of all the late nights cutting, pasting, painting, designing to create whatever was needed. It never occurred to me how little sleep I got or that I could say no, that a project was too big or too last minute. Creating has never been a burden to me. Even when I’m exhausted and operating on zero sleep I always push myself to finish what I promise because the look on the faces of those I love when they see what I’ve made for them is more than words can describe. When a stage set comes together, when an elaborate welcome sign is waved up high, when something as simple as a homemade card is delivered the knowledge that I am responsible for bringing joy, happiness, and laughter to others is one of the most rewarding feelings.
Over the span of my life I have worked in a plethora of mediums. Everything ranging from the traditional to the obscure. My preferred mediums would include watercolor paints, oil paints, pen and ink, and baking. Yes, baking is an art form. Mixing together sugar, flour, and vanilla is essentially the edible version of blending the perfect shade of paint. Many of my favorite memories involve my mother and I covered in icing as we decorate cookies for any and every holiday. I am just as adept with a Ziploc Piping Bag as I am with a Paintbrush. Though, for me, painting has always been my favorite. I especially love watercolor painting. It’s less forgiving, but easy to travel with. Especially when one has a fondness for painting landscapes.
When I sat down to write this paper, this artist statement, I found it very daunting to write pages about myself. I thought about discussing my favorite artist and how they’ve inspired me or attempting to discuss specific techniques I prefer. However, I thought it’d be a more enjoyable read if I were to recount my journey thus far. My art, like my life and this paper, is a little bit messy. It is continually developing and growing as I learn new techniques, styles, and mediums. My art is my life, it is representative of the jumbled up emotions I am experiencing at a given moment.
If I was to describe my current work in one word I would say it is vibrant. I have always loved bright colors and bold strokes. Artists through the centuries have painted for various reasons. Some imagery has hidden depths, and some is meant to be completely nonsensical. I create because the process of creating makes me feel wonderful. It is my personal way of expressing and centering myself. I have always tried to be true to myself when creating. My favorite artist, Vincent Van Gogh, said, “If you hear a voice within you say, "you cannot paint," then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” If what I create sparks happiness in others, brings a smile to their face, or stops and makes them think then that is really another matter. Everyone reacts personally to art. What I get from the process of creating is not necessarily what others receive while viewing the art when I’ve finished.
It’s a week before my graduation from Walla Walla University and I’ve recently finished my last school art project. The top of my graduation cap is as bright and bold as my art typically is and I will wear it with pride as I cross the stage and onto my next phase of life with not one, but two degrees. I plan to continue to create art for myself, and for others. I wish to create spaces for people to develop the artist within themselves and learn about the value of practicing creativity. Ultimately, I hope that my own work will continue to bring joy.
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