When
I was a child I remember my parents giving me a drawing set. In this set I was able
to draw and design wedding dresses, summer dresses, and outfits. I remember I
would spend hours drawing with the things that came with the set. Creating new
ideas for clothes that maybe could some day be made real. I was young, maybe 9
or 10 years old. The last thing I remember drawing with this set was my future
“wedding” dress. Though my thoughts about this dress have dramatically changed,
I can still remember the reasons for each color I had used in this dress. The
most important color of this dress was surprisingly not white, though white was
the dominant color of this dress. But the main color of this dress was purple
because in the Old Testament purple stood for royalty.
In
8th grade I remember being in my art class at Edgewood Middle
School, with Mrs. King as my teacher. We were creating things from clay; I had
come up with this thought of making a jewelry box for my cousin. I also
remember weaving something together. I vaguely remember a piece of cardboard,
maybe the size of 6x9” or 5x7,” using it as a loom of some sort. I remember
taking things from outside (twigs, tall pieces of grass, bark, flower stems,
pedals) and with yarn weaving them together, creating a miniature blanket of
these beautiful earth tones with focal elements from the world in it. In
creating these two things gave me great joy and passion.
Today my life in art has changed, or if you
will sort of evolved into my identity. I am always looking for my next image to
paint, draw, or simply capture in a picture. During my day most of my words has some kind of musical
tone, or so I hope. When I am painting or drawing I am thinking about what is the
next step, or the next color? What are the hues that I need to mix to get to
the color that I have pictured in my mind? At the moment when you walk into my room there is this
fragrant odor. If you are not a painter, you might think that one had just
painted the walls or re-stained the hardwood floors. To me this smell is sweet,
and inspiring. When time has past since I have last sat for a while in front of
my 6-foot easel, painting, I feel lost. I can still smell the sweet sent of the
oils I painted last, and it feels as if they are crying out to me to be added
too on a canvas that is 38”x48”s. When all of my supplies are put away, not only
does my room have an amazing aroma, but also one can see where I usually keep
my things while I am actually painting. There is a small spot on my hardwood
floor from where my turpentine has eroded the finish off the floor. There is
oil paint on numerous articles of my clothes, my towels, and my bed linens have
been kissed by wondrous colors used in an illustration. In the corner by the
TV, the opposite corner of the painting, is where illustrations from my past
rest. Through this stack you can see where I have come from, and how much I
have developed in my competence as an artist. Under my bed lies two portfolio
cases, and in them is more work that was created by my hands.
In my life as an artist today many of those
same passions are still as fervent as they were when I was a child, if not more
than they’ve ever been. After going to an art college and honing in on my
talent, or my skill, I feel as if I am able to call myself an “Artist” now,
compared to when I was a preadolescent. When I am working with my hands, i.e.
drawing, painting, sculpting, cooking, etc., I get into this zone that I don’t
live in on a daily basis. When I am here it is like I am not aware of my
surroundings, just what is in front of me. I feel free of stress from my daily
life (work, school, family). While I’m on the path to get to this zone I have
music playing softly to help drown out the negatives that may be in my
thoughts, in my heart, or actually resounding in my house. Once I am finally in
this zone of complete artistry, I feel like I am in constant communication with
my Heavenly Father. Physically it is me who is painting, but it is the Father
who is guiding my hands, telling what color to paint, and what is to be done
next. Here I am in my Father’s arms and he is doting on me and replenishing my heart
and my soul.
