Growth Painting

I'm a current high school senior living in Arizona. My art is what it is--I have trouble finding words to explain it, and even more difficulty searching for the answer to why I make it. For me, the most satisfying feeling is sitting back, looking at my canvas, and seeing a reflection of myself. Examining art is more than simply looking at composition or aesthetics--it's having a dialogue with the piece. It's discovering a bit of yourself in the work, and as a result, discovering a little bit more of yourself. Where words fail, art excels. I've never been one for "precision" and "technique." Until this year, I've had no formal training. In grade school, I never liked the idea of being told what to draw. While now, it's easy to recognize that some exercises have a valuable lesson in technique to be learned, the third-grade me saw only oppression of mind and restraint of passion. I was admitted into the highest level of art class in my school this year--there, my teacher grants us all complete freedom in our work. He understands. I spend more time staring at a blank canvas, dreaming of its possible futures, than I do practicing my "technique." There's no wrong way to do art, after all. As an artist, the idea of painting pretty flowers and puppies never appealed to me. I love the expressive power of art. The idea is the most important part of my work, but ideas cannot be taught. They derive from experiencing life and stumbling upon a variety of perspectives, inspirations, relationships, and emotions. Today, on 3/16/2014, I begin the documentation of my human growth. The art I sell--I sell a part of me. A part of my journey.