Defense Against the Dark Arts
People who know me in real life are often thrown off when they see my art for the first time. In real life I’m (generally) a positive and happy person. I often talk about unicorns and rainbows, though usually sarcastically, and my cat (seriously though, Regina is fantastic). I watch a lot of Sci Fi and am generally seen as a mixture of bubbly and geeky. My art rarely reflect this.
Words used to describe my art in the past have consisted of words such as “dark,” “creepy,” “weird,” or (my favorite) “demented.” Nicer descriptions are almost always limited to the use of a single word: “interesting.” This apparent clash of personality vs art has lead to a lot of conversations about my artwork, specifically why I make dark art. I remember once being asked to consider what source inspired my art and whether I should let it into my life or if I should focus solely on creating uplifting artwork. That conversation was one of the only ones that stunned me. I had never before considered that my artwork had been inspired by anything but good and, for once, I didn’t have a reply. It has been a little over 5 years since that question and I finally have an answer to that statement:
No my art isn’t inspired by evil. I take inspiration from life and use my art as an outlet. Envy, hatred, anxiety, fear, pain, these feelings are a part of life. While these feelings are normal, they are not healthy to hold onto for prolonged periods of time. These emotions can bog us down if we are unwilling or unable to take the time to deal with them in their own time and manner.
This is where my art comes in. I could write, talk to friends, exercise, or do a number of things to deal with life but other methods have never worked successfully for me. I learned in high school that by drawing, by fixing an emotion/thought to a page, I am able to fully clear my head and leave my burdens bound in graphite on a sketchbook page. I found that through this process, I could identify more clearly what was bothering me so that I could address the issue instead of simply struggling to put a name to it.
Looking through old sketchbooks is a walk down memory lane. I remember the struggles and hardships I went through but I look back with a new perspective being able to see how I overcame each problem. The creatures (because these emotions usually come out as creatures) are now old friends that I can find comfort in. My sketchbooks have transformed from angst to a testimony that pain is inevitable but suffering is temporary.
Below are a few images from my high school and freshman year of college. I’m pleased to see how much my style and form of expression has grown as an artist but these pieces will always hold a tender spot in my heart.
