This particular work of art was presented to my drawing class last spring for a critique. Our assignment was to draw whatever we wanted, however we wanted, and with whatever we wanted. No rules to break, no limitations to adhere to.
I chose to draw a nude figure with acrylic paint and indie ink and make a mixed media background for it with newspaper.
When I heard this, I was shocked. Not because of the seriousness of the subject – because art deals with dark and serious issues all of the time – but because this could not have been farther from my intentions when I went to create this work.
I simply wanted to practice my figure drawing skills while using media I thoroughly enjoyed working with. I expected to be critiqued on my technical skill work with the figure’s anatomy and perhaps the interaction between the figure and the background.
When I expressed my intentions for the work to my classmates, everyone simply shrugged their shoulders and we moved onto the next student’s work hanging on the wall.
Later that day I called my mom, a professional oil painter, and I explained my classmates reactions to my figure drawing. My mom is a portrait artist by trade, and she also is a master of the human figure.
This work that I created was her favorite of mine up to that point in my life, which is something I am very proud of. She told me that she experienced similar things in the art world that I had experienced that day in class. Sometimes she felt that her art was boring compared to art other people were creating in the art world today. I can assure you, my mom’s paintings are far from boring. However, I knew exactly what she was talking about.
My generation of art students, at least based off of my observations for the past year and a half as an art student, is so caught up in being the next new crazy thing that the world has ever seen.
I am not saying that every classical nude painted in Europe in the 18th century is fascinating, but I am saying there is something important we must take from work like that. Not all art has to have some deep, bizarre interpretation that may sound crazy to many people.
Some artists, like myself when I presented my nude figure, wanted to be appreciated for the technique and the creativity behind the work. I do not mean to say that I do not create work that has a deeper interpretation than the surface level, and when I do, it is up to the viewer to determine what that is.
I do hope, however, that while we, as art students, are taught to think and interpret creatively, we hold onto what interested us in the art world in the first place. For me, that was the love of drawing and creating, but I had to learn how to draw before I could even become decent at it. As many say, you must know the rules before you can break them.
Expression is an expulsion of the self, sense of being, and a freedom to live, so here I am ready to express myself.
I am a human, and I am flawed. There is both light that is elicited from my bright and eager smiles, exposed from the volume of a careless laugh and exemplified in the tender expressions of love that radiate among my friends and I, but there is also a darkness. There is a darkness that gnaws at the crevices of my core, excited to discover any routes of escape. A darkness that overflows as it seeps through engagements of sadness and disparity. This darkness releases itself in waves of sadness or episodes of lavish rage. Remember I am a human and I am flawed.
I am an entity of love just as I am constructed out of the most paramount forms of rage and despair. I am pure, but I am also as tainted as they come. I am loved, fetishized, desired, and revered just as I am hated, berated, slandered and ostracized.
To describe myself would simply be to state that I am a balance of right and wrong, of love and hate, of humanity and wilder.
There may be days that I want to cry a sorrow so deep and so wide that bewilders my spirit by its very thought, but there are days that my core rises afloat, illuminating my body and crawling through the creases of my mouth exposing a laugh or exposed grin.
I would like to express my entirety to all of you, its thick, tarnished poisons, its luminous explicit bliss, and its testifying fury. I would like to express my hatred of the demonizing enemy to my expression and to my very being, to indifference.
But what about love, what about a purity seemingly so far fetched as it is craved by any and every single being. It is the magnificence of love and its mystical lucidity that should be boasted about as opposed to the frigid and vile behavior of indifference.
I scowl at the ridicule inhabiting my mind as I ponder upon the indifference of a past lover, who dimmed my light as his shadow grew with every pittance of my unrequited love. Darkness so wild and strong submerged me in episodes of sadness and grief. How intense a feeling to bestow upon myself, a mind so dimmed and dampened, but so juvenile in thought and dare I say, existence.
“I do not care” is the birthplace of a monster, the castration of the feeling of warmth and tenderness that is love. How foolish it is to minimize your feelings, your emotions, and foundations just to emit a veil of dark energy throughout a world already filled with turmoil and evil, but then again you are ‘indifferent’, and you lack the ability to feel or to express.
To the friends that have entwined me in golden raptures of sweet bliss, I love you. To past friends, whom ponder on my image in pitch darkness, I wish you the best and I hope to have bestowed you with pride and the ability of growth and expression.
To a faint past lover, thank you for teaching me under your shadowed wings, thank you for teaching me that I must love myself first, and thank you for shrouding me in gloomy darkness in order for me recollect pieces of myself and place them together to build a stronger core and a greater capacity to love, to feel.
To all of you, you have the power to piece me together, to shape my memory and mind by the memories we have created together. Thank you to all and thank you for expression.