Creative Mind, Flesh, Bones

My dreams have always been in the backseat of my father’s car. At a young age I was told what I would do with my life, what was expected and what was acknowledged as anything other than was considered a let down. How, was it that my hobbies were considered bad, yet there I was in elementary school trying my best in science class. Though me and science work, we aren’t of the best friends. One of my best friends is Art. At young age I would illustrate so many things in my head till one day I decided to put something down in my paper. That relief my hand felt when it touched that paint brush was almost heart felting. My mind and expressions were revolting creativity. When dreams become a reality, you take it by the brush and stroke it.

How can you tell a 10-year old to choose whether you want to be a starving artist or doctor? How, could it be that my father was already foreseeing my downfall in life. I believed at that moment my life would change if I chose one or the other, my studies, or my hobby. Art was something I would enjoy at home, and my father would see that and told me to finish my homework, or study new vocabulary. When I was in the 5th grade, my parents switched my school, so I started out as a new person. While there, I was exposed to so much art because the school took extracurriculars important. From dance, to painting, to sculpting, to instrument playing, it felt like a whole new universe had opened up. I was enveloping these new emotions of acceptance and excitement that often had me in disbelief that a school so hard was also a school open to art.

In middle school I chose art as my elective, and that was the peak of my art experiences in school. My art teacher was so freeing, she would let us expose our feelings in our art pieces. Our skills, our failures were all left out in our artwork. I felt creative, powerful, eccentric because of the art I had created in those 3 years of middle school. In those 3 years I had a precious disguise because many people knew me as the artist, and not the smart kid. I could become the person I always wanted to be, cool and creative. My art teacher really helped me express myself, whether that be in the art I made or the person I was. She focused on painters that showed difference in techniques and style. One major artist that she showed our class was Frida Kahlo. Frida Kahlo and all her life journey with her art made me more passionate in art because throughout all the hardships she went through, she still found the beauty in things. She also represented latinos, and latino culture through her paintings that helped me with my identity.  The paintings I did throughout those 3 years helped me develop a sense of reality when it came to being an artist.

 Now this is really out of my control, but in High school I did not take any art because my school did not offer it. I had to reason myself because I always told myself that art was my thing, yet there I was choosing AP classes instead. AP classes was routinely the same, studying and researching, which made me incredible melancholy. So in Junior year, I went out of my way to sign myself up for the Whitney Youth Program, where I was exposed to art and the making of it. My dream of becoming an artist was being extended when I presented my art pieces at the Whitney in the end of the program. This opened my world of other artists who create art and this excited me because I found people that love to do the same thing I love to do. The dream of becoming an artist was starting to be reachable when my art teacher emphasized to me on how my skills impressed him.

Having skills that don’t pay the bills makes you feel useless, immorally correct or incorrect, those with science and math degrees make it in this world. An art degree doesn’t, and that robs many people’s dreams. It robbed my dream. Though I don’t regret having art skills, because It made me have an identity other than just a student. Art helped guide me from going to events, discovering myself and my creative approach in thinking. Just like physics, art enhanced my view in this world. Perception and perfection is a wonderful trait, just like art is to science.