Artist Statement
What am I trying to say with my art? I guess I should start with, what is the role of the artist? For me, a muralist, I view my role as the decision maker, the one who decides what story gets amplified. What piece of life do I find important enough so as to spend hours creating something beyond myself; the devotional act of art making. I think living a good life while I'm here in this body and helping others do the same is invaluable. One obstacle that stands in the way of a good life is getting overly obsessed and focused on “the small stuff”. Let's call it what it is, losing perspective.
A trick that can dissolve said loss of perspective is to pause and notice the light. Let's get curious about the way the power lines cast shadows on the building, the topography of my skin, my friend's backlit yarrow hair. Not only does this practice put me in the present moment, it also inspires incredible appreciation for life’s crushing beauty. Then, I see my life like a map on a screen and I zoom out. Keep zooming out. Wait, there's a distant star casting all this light and creating the beauty I am currently absorbed in? This perspective immediately puts me in my place, and I become grounded in the fact that I am a living, breathing, loving, squirming creature made of ancient matter, connected to everything, yet independent. I am tiny, and I am huge. The duality of it all is stunning; life affirming. And I got to this moment of deep perspective by just witnessing the light.
The light connects me to the sky, connects me to the stars, to something much bigger than myself. I revel in this big galactic hug and then move forward with my day. So let's go back to the art; if my ability to witness the miracle of light helps me to slow down and enjoy my life then my role as an artist is to depict light. My favorite medium to witness the sun’s energy through is the botanical world; in evolutionary terms, our older siblings. Nothing captures light and color quite like a flower.
A trick that can dissolve said loss of perspective is to pause and notice the light. Let's get curious about the way the power lines cast shadows on the building, the topography of my skin, my friend's backlit yarrow hair. Not only does this practice put me in the present moment, it also inspires incredible appreciation for life’s crushing beauty. Then, I see my life like a map on a screen and I zoom out. Keep zooming out. Wait, there's a distant star casting all this light and creating the beauty I am currently absorbed in? This perspective immediately puts me in my place, and I become grounded in the fact that I am a living, breathing, loving, squirming creature made of ancient matter, connected to everything, yet independent. I am tiny, and I am huge. The duality of it all is stunning; life affirming. And I got to this moment of deep perspective by just witnessing the light.
The light connects me to the sky, connects me to the stars, to something much bigger than myself. I revel in this big galactic hug and then move forward with my day. So let's go back to the art; if my ability to witness the miracle of light helps me to slow down and enjoy my life then my role as an artist is to depict light. My favorite medium to witness the sun’s energy through is the botanical world; in evolutionary terms, our older siblings. Nothing captures light and color quite like a flower.