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I sat with eyes wide open, watching my mother create. Being such a young child, seeing art being made was like watching life sprout before me. How could she make a simple sheet of paper come to life so effortlessly? Could I ever be able to do such a feat? I began to attempt to imitate my mother. I painted messily with cheap liquid acrylics, whilst beside me my mom made the same cheap acrylics look like a top shelf medium. I wasn’t worried about how good or bad my art was, I was just having fun spending time with her.
However; as I grew, my relationship with art began to radically change. What began as a mother and daughter bond evolved into a fascination with art as a concept. I could see artistic potential in everything. Yet this came with one small issue. No matter how obsessed I was with the idea of art, I lacked the skills to keep up with said obsession. I needed to improve no matter what (which was possibly just a middle schoolers' need to be special). I began relentlessly studying and practicing. Quite conveniently, the pandemic was right around the corner giving me the prime opportunity to build my skill uninterrupted.
It began with sketches littered through my math notes in between zoom classes. Drawing was my only solace. However, I struggled. Drawing just seemed impossible to me. Every time I would start with a specific outcome in mind, but I could just never recreate it. Seeking a more validating medium, I turned to forgiving acrylic paints. I scoured the internet looking for a reference image to try out this new medium. Then I finally found it; an Autumn pathway lined by sweeping trees and illuminated by a pristine sky. To paint this “correctly” I needed to sketch extensively underneath. My main obstacle was proportions. Then color. Then texture. All I could do was desperately go back and forth from the reference to the painting, no matter how long it took me. I wanted everything to be perfect; to create art I was proud of. A week of my time gone; this painting left me with a landscape crafted from desperation and an addictive passion. While in retrospect this painting is hauntingly flat and unskilled; at that moment it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. I was truly proud of my work. Knowing how much effort and patience I’d exuded to create this painting made the outcome all more satisfying. Hours spent crawling, grasping towards something intangible—self-validation.
A painting is paint, water, and graphite; bonded to canvas over a wooden frame. A painting is life changing, world opening. A painting can transcend time and space, capturing memories for future generations. Putting all of my being into a simple landscape finally unlocked the doors I had been so desperately trying to kick down. The notion that I could create art like that was exhilarating. If I could make just a single person feel something by looking at my art, all the hours put into it would be worth it. I finally am able to grasp at what I am working to achieve. I can create my art with intent. My preferred medium is currently oil paint, which allows me to create freely. Oil paint allows me to make the realism I attempted with my landscape years ago. It also gives me the chance to take it even further; art with a purpose. Art is terribly human and unbelievably beautiful, and I wish to be forever enveloped within it.
