Passion in the Small Things

I'm just going to get it out straight from the get go. These last few weeks have been crazy for me, and I'm so excited to get them written out. My current semester is almost over (there are only two weeks left) and I am going to be so sad when it's over, but I'm excited for change (as always) and for the adventures that this next semester will bring me.

Since I last posted, I have finished tons of artwork (well, two projects, but that is a lot of work) and got to go on a little trip. Since it tends to be all I talk about, I'll start with my art.

I recently finished working on two printmaking pieces. One is a block print that I did for a print exchange we had, and the other is an intaglio print (the copper etching that I normally do) of a dancer. The block print was a challenging piece for me. I did my first block print when I was in 6th grade, so the method isn't new to me at all. It was the subject of the piece that made it so hard. For the print exchange, we focused on a deep part of us that we may not be too proud of. We explored and exposed our deep vulnerabilities and imperfections. One of the most crucial things in art is being able to see the world through your lens very clearly, and expressing that. One of the hardest realities to face is ourselves, and we had to do it for this project. More than anything, I spent so much time just thinking about myself. What was one of my biggest weaknesses and insecurities? After lots of careful thinking, I realized that I had a problem I had recently overcome which I had been battling for years.

I know that all adolescents undergo a identity crisis of sorts. That is a part of growing up. We must realize who we are and how we express that. I however, felt that I had too many personalities (so to speak) while growing up. I have always been deep down a "people pleaser" of sorts. For years, it was more devastating to fail someone else's expectations for me than to fail my own. Because of this, the many sides of my personality were born. I felt like my life was a one man show with multiple masks depending on who I was interacting with. One day, I had enough of it. In the confines of my room, I broke down in tears because I didn't know which "mask" was the real me. My high school world had come crashing down, and the weight of it was pretty heavy. I didn't really know who I was. I knew very well the different people I pretended to be, but I didn't have any idea which one was the real me. Years later, I now have determined who I am and don't have to wear any masks. I don't care about pleasing others for the sake of peer approval anymore. While I still consider myself to have a "multi-faceted personality" (I totally made that phrase up), I know that each facet belongs to me, and is genuine to the core. Just as the most beautiful diamond needs all of it's perfectly cut facets to shine it's brightest, I need each and every side of me to be my best. Some days, I feel like dressing up in an elegant way. Other days, I lean more towards a 90's grunge-ish look. And you know what? It's okay because it's who I am. I am the same person now either way. Whether I am wearing make up or not, I use the same vocabulary. I still have the same life experiences, have read the same books, love or hate the same movies and music, and I still believe the same things each time. I can finally be the same person no matter what I look like that day.

To express these feelings, I did a linoleum block print of a faceless woman with a "mask" (a green colored square). It was amazing to make art with meaning, and it took me far too long to get back to a point when art emotionally meant something to me.

It was an emotionally draining process to dig deep enough to find and reveal this weakness of mine, and was a physically consuming process as well. While making this project, I even gouged my thumb a little bit with the carving tool (no worries, it's better now, but I might have a cool scar from it).

I actually cut my thumb twice within five minutes or so, but it's okay. The price paid as an artist is more than worth it. I printed 18 copies of the piece, and fifteen were used for the print exchange. Oh, I should probably explain what a print exchange is for you guys. Basically, a group of print makers get together, and make a print for everyone. We picked a theme, and we designed a print based around it. We set a due date, and when that day came, we all came back together to give everyone a copy of our print. That means that I also got a copy of everyone else's art from this project. It was amazing to see us all honestly bring ourselves to light, and was so worth it.

It is always amazing to me to see how much we can learn from each other, and it gets even better when we realize that other people struggle too. No one is perfect, no matter what light we see them in. We all need to cut each other, and ourselves sometimes, some slack since we are all still working on it. Succeeding in life didn't come naturally to any of us, and that is perfectly fine and normal.

My next art piece, the dancer, has to do with overcoming the struggles that we face in life. Some weaknesses we have to embrace. Others, we can and should strive to overcome. And let's face it, some of these challenges come from the world around us.

One night while I was home for Christmas, I had a brilliant wave of inspiration. I was laying in bed about to fall asleep when the idea hit me as if a refreshing raindrop from Heaven. I grabbed my sketch book (which thankfully was on my nightstand) and scribbled a rough sketch of my idea in the dark. I didn't even turn the light on to draw it. I saw this graceful dancer breaking free through the mist of tribulation of this world. The smoke dispersed away from her with every powerful step that she took, just like stage fog does with the actors in a play. There was something magical and powerful about it, and I knew I had to create it. Just as quickly as the image was stamped on my mind, a Bible verse came along with it. It was Isaiah 52:2. Now I never pictured myself really making religious artwork, but this is my version of that. While the subject itself isn't necessarily religious in nature, the meaning and message of it very much is to me. The scripture in Isaiah says this:

"Shake thyself from the dust; arise, and sit down, O Jerusalem: loose thyself from the bands of thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion."

What an overwhelming feeling of insurmountable gratitude! Anything that would hold me or anyone back could, and would be lifted. God loves us, and wants to help us. I know that I have overcome so many struggles in my lifetime, and will still face many more. With this piece of art, I had to learn yet again the meaning of behind the piece for myself. I ran into more complications making this print than I think I have ever run into. The funny thing is that this plate shouldn't have even been that hard. It involved basic techniques, and should have been so simple to execute with the experience that I now have in printmaking.

It was a simple hard ground and aqua tint intaglio plate. And don't worry if those mean nothing to you. They are printmaking terms, that if you are super interested, you can learn more about from watching people do them on YouTube. However, I could pretty much just tell you that they are pretty basic, and I learned them in my first two weeks of printmaking. Let me just give you an example of how things wouldn't work out for me. First, when working on the aqua tint stage of the etching process, my first try at getting the "smoke/fog" didn't work at all. It was terrible! Luckily, I was able to quickly come up with a solution that worked perfectly. It gave me a more geometric look than I was originally hoping for, but it still gets the message across. Next came the problem that almost made me lose my mind. When the plate was finally done, I went to print it. I knew I would need around 10 prints to get a good grade because the print was so simple. This was several more than I had ever done before, so I was a little nervous, but not too bad. I was excited to have the final product in my hands.

As soon as I finished the plate, I pulled a test proof. It was gorgeous! I was so proud of how well it turned out, and I couldn't wait to come back to the press the next day and print my final pieces. I felt so accomplished, and I was on the top of the world. Sadly, the next day didn't keep me quite as optimistic. I went back to the press the next day to print my copies. I put my paper to soak (that helps the paper to absorb the ink better) and waited until it was ready to print. Finally, my paper was ready, and I went to print. When I pulled the printed paper off the press, my heart sank. The ink wasn't nearly as dark as it needed to be. The paper wasn't holding the ink, and it looked like a washed out mess. I guessed that I had just wiped too much ink off the plate, so I tried again. I tried several more times in fact, and the results didn't change. I was so frustrated that I'm pretty sure I scared all of the beginning students in the room. I wasn't yelling or anything, but I sure didn't look like a happy camper. I wanted to scream and sob and let out all the feelings of failure that I had in that moment. Because of this event, I knew that I would not have a complete set of prints to turn in the following Monday. I had never asked for a redo before, and it was going to feel so terrible to do so. Luckily, my professor is so understanding of these things, and lets us redo assignments for full credit as long as we still show up to the critique and have at least something to show. I knew that my only option was to show up at the critique with my failed prints and hope for the best.

To my amazement, most of the class also asked for a redo on their prints. I felt so relieved! Isn't it amazing how we feel less like failures when we realize that everyone else has issues too? Anyway, it was so nice to have the support from other failures too to get me through my own. A little bit later, I re-attacked printing this plate. I used a different paper that holds the ink a little better, and I soaked the paper for a pretty good amount of time, like twice the amount of time as before. Finally, it was printing! It still wasn't quite as good as the test proof I pulled before, but it so much better than my failed attempt.

This time, it was working to a point that I was happy with, so I decided to go the extra mile. I printed 20 pieces of this print, and it was almost enjoyable. The relief that came from overcoming truly brought an extra layer of meaning to this piece, and I couldn't be happier. I named it "ARISE" because of the overcoming of hardships that makes this life beautiful.

So, after I got all these printed, I got to go on a little trip to Salt Lake City, Utah. It was just a fun overnight trip with a few friends from church. We went to the temple there, and did a little bit of walking around Temple Square. The weather was a gorgeous 80 degrees or so, and the sun was out shining just for us. We had a few mishaps, like temporarily losing people, and freaky car problems, but we managed to figure everything out and have a great trip.

I am so grateful that I got to go on that trip. It was so nice to have a break after stressing so much over my artwork, and better yet, the time was spent with amazing people. I am so grateful for how those around us really can lift us up when it feels like we have been standing in the bottom of Earth's deepest abyss. Even more so, I'm grateful for everything I have learned through all the hard times in my life, and for the person I am becoming because of them.