CREATIVITY has always been there for me. As far back as I can remember, it was there. Like a friend and outlet. It was up to me what I chose to do with it and how I used it.
As a kid, I drew on anything I could get my hands on. My favorite combination was damp napkins, ink, and markers. The napkin would soak up the ink in unexpected, beautiful ways. Watching the wet surface “drink” and spread the ink was entrancing and soothing to my mind. Unfortunately, the end results were dull and muted. I wanted bold colors.
I took typical art classes from elementary to high school. Every project seemed to have the same purpose: “make it look like the object you’re told to draw or paint.” I was so sick of creating images of fruit bowls, pitchers, glassware, floral arrangements… blah, blah, blah. This approach only made me over-critical and disappointed when my work didn’t perfectly represent the object.
I don’t recall ever having the opportunity in an art class to just create something on my own as an assignment. It’s unfortunate because a student could present to a class, their own ideas brewing in their head. At the end of my sophomore year in high school, I was turned off with visual art. To fill this creative void, I decided to revisit something else that captivated me at a young age.
My other passion is music. I had consumed it like food since I was 8. I was obsessed and wanted to play the guitar. So, my parents got me lessons. In my fourth lesson, after playing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” using one string, I asked the teacher when I’d learn to play powerful sounds like I’d heard on my Kiss albums. He said that they used electric guitars and it would take a long time to learn guitar theory and get to the point where I could even consider playing one. I walked out and didn’t consider playing again until I was 14, when I traded art for guitar.
At that time, I bought an electric guitar and an amp, and I joined my first band. Then, after high school, I connected with another band that found moderate success. I was fortunate to create and play music with this band until I was 23, when I decided to have a family. I kept writing and recording music and continue to today.
Even today, I can’t read music; I taught myself by ear.
I don’t know color theory; I taught myself by experimenting.
I think I see a pattern.
One week during the winter of 2013/14, the kids were at their mom’s, and I was snowed-in alone. Out of boredom, I began experimenting with different acrylic paints, water, and various media. I became fascinated with the fluidity of mixing the paint and the media. The way gravity and angles allowed me to “shape” the painting. The flow, lines, color, and freedom made me want to experiment more. This “fluid imagination” allowed me to let go of rigid perfection and simply enjoy the outcome.
After creating several canvases, I took a break to play my electric guitar. As I was playing, I looked down and saw the paint vibrating and moving as my guitar sounds dictated its motion and shape. Curious, I laid down my guitar amp speaker and placed the canvas on top. I began playing and was in awe: I had fused my passions and creative outlets.
I began experimenting with different sound sources and frequencies to learn how they changed the paint’s behavior. Different frequencies moved the paint differently. I’ve discovered new ways to move paint without touching it with my hands or brush.
My art may speak, but the viewer discovers the message. Every time someone observes my work, they interpret it differently. These reactions and interpretations inspire me to continue creating. The responses and emotions they observe are fulfilling to me; I find a unique beauty in different interpretations.
I’ve been inspired to expand my pours from the canvas to other surfaces: furniture, motorcycle gas tanks, skateboards, guitars, clothing, and more.
I believe I’m unique because of how I create.
I’m influenced by what I see, feel, and experience. I connect colors and shapes with sounds, music, and emotions, which weave into a conglomerate of meanings and healing. My pours are comprised of ingredients from my “stew of life”: my struggles, my celebrations, and everything in between.
CREATIVITY has always been there for me. At times, I’m not able to use it. Other times, it flows like the pours I create. Regardless, I know it’s there for me. And for this, I’m forever grateful.
