Artist’s statement.

To be sent to SAIC. It’s a ramble, but one from the heart, I suppose.

What is art? It’s a line on a sheet of paper, that to you, could be just that; a line. It is also the dark, muddy colors of the famous Mona Lisa, which the whole world seems to view as a masterpiece, though it is a simple portrait. Nothing is not art. The only thing that isn’t art is the piece done with no feeling. There is no bad, or good. There is only taste, and preference. A child’s drawing can be as disturbing as a photograph of a corpse. A splatter painting could make your eyes well up with tears. A one-line poem could explain the whole world better than a 200 something page novel.

A painter once said, “Everybody makes art when they’re a little kid—then at some point they stop. I just didn’t stop.” That painter was Zak Smith, who I look up to, and have an abundant amount of respect for. As a child, growing up in the suburbs of South Jersey, creating art introduced me to a world full of possibilities and later, profound people. I did draw. I drew a lot, but I never stopped. Drawing, painting, writing, even photography, allow me to present to the public my inner most thoughts and the deranged, exciting imagery that comes from the right side of brain. The thought of being able to truly put forth the endless ideas that bleed from my right brain, and being given freedom to continue to push myself artistically, leaves me breathless.

The one thing that most inspires all that I do is music. Countless bands; sound waves that are tender, and innocent, soothingly bleak, or brash and thunderous. How one’s lyrics paint a mental image of time and space as tangible things. I do tend to either draw/paint or write poetry about musicians, or create something based on a song I was listening to. Musical poets like Rowland S. Howard, Nick Cave, Jeff Buckley, Bowie; Aggressive, bleak, and heartfelt singers, like Patti Smith, PJ Harvey, Fiona Apple, Courtney Love. These people, and countless others, keep me doing what I do best. I’ve been told Chicago is very artsy, and musical; A city full of inspiration, in its’ sidewalk cracks, and in its’ people. To be in an environment where my next great work of art could blossom, and transform… that’s important to me.

Words are also important to me. I don’t believe in learning large words that you can throw around to sound like you know information. I like coming across words you don’t know, but like how they sound, and so you apply them to your life. The poet is almost always the one who isn’t that articulate in person. Everything is in the mind, and that’s the beauty of it. People who explain everything very well in person are dull in the imagination. I don’t read a lot, but when I do, it is because i’ve pondered over whether what i’m about to read will be just another cliche story, or a brilliant masterpiece. I want to write an original work, and express normal, human behaviors, and day-to-day activities in such a way that no one has done before. It’s a hard, and probably daunting task, but it is a mountain I am willing to climb and achieve.

There’s a brilliant photographer named, Amy Arbus. I became a fan of her mother’s photography (Diane Arbus) this year, and subsequently wanted to Google her for more, which led me to Amy. Amy said something very poignant, and very astounding in the best way possible, which is “When I ask to photograph someone, it is because I love the way they look and I think I make that clear. I’m paying them a tremendous compliment. What I’m saying is, I want to take you home with me and look at you for the rest of my life.” I love the look of people. I want to capture everything I love in a person, a thousand times over, and at different colors, exposures, and angles. Images are very important to me. I could look at them forever, and I want someone to feel that way about something i’ve taken, too. 

I will not let someone dictate what I should be creating. I’m constantly told by people around me to create pretty things. My mother wants a portrait of her. She wants flowers, and sunsets, and simple inanimate objects. But I don’t think i’ve ever been into very pretty things. Life itself isn’t pretty. I can remember a drawing I did in elementary school. It was of a girl, crying, leaning against a tombstone that read “R.I.P., I (heart) you”. My mother saw it and thought I was weird. She still feels that way, i’m quite sure. My art lies within my obscure interests. I’m drawn, perhaps addicted to sadness, both the sadness of others, as well as my own. I want to be able to draw, paint, write, and photograph great sadness. I want to portray everything. Only in a school, that focuses solely on art can give me the space, time, and tools I need to create my greatest masterpieces, and my most horrifying failures.

When I finish and graduate at this darling of a school, I hope to have created a legacy, in several different mediums. I want everything i’ve ever stood for, in multiple copies, and for other people to be inspired. I want to make people imagine, and dream. Embrace the dark. Question everything. Art is so sadly unappreciated because now it seems that anyone can do it, and doing it with no feeling is more special. With that, i’m more referring to music, rather than something visual, but it is all the same. 

What is an artist statement? To you, it is a 1000 word piece that explains our “Whys” and “Hows”, and perhaps even measures our worth and potential as artists. I suppose this one is a ramble, a confusing mess of words and feelings, but they are written from the heart, and I can only hope it is seen that way, and is the most interesting of statements. For me, an artist’s statement should be a sentence long. A sentence that can be as straightforward or as obscure and confusing as you so choose for it to be. They are meant to be left open for interpretation. My statement is this: I am dark, not—yet luminescent.

(Source: serenepristine)