she cried herself
to sleep tonight
the mirrors
they screamed illusion
screw the world
for blinding sight
it caused all this
confusion
(canvas text)
Blog about the piece:
I love drawing, painting, collaging, scribbling, sketching, and doodling (rather than note taking). My past, when I think back, was congested with clues that I wanted to be an artist. I have been drawing since I could pick up a crayon (after which I was so impressed with myself I occasionally ate one). When I was seven, I would compete with a boy named Charlie in a sketch-off of who could draw the best superhero. Anything creative was what I really excelled in. I taught myself how to gesso a canvas and how to make use of negative space. I'd sneak into art classes in undergrad. And the biggest clue: I was painting in every ounce of spare time I had. So why hadn't it occurred to me sooner to make a living as an artist? I suppose the pull to be a certain societal standard had something to do with it, among other things. Allowing myself to become an artist was the greatest step I ever took in becoming my most authentic self. What is it that will make you more authentic, and the question is, why aren't you doing it?
No comments:
Post a Comment