"I have nothing to say... I have everything to say..." I circle in these phrases aloudto myself while staring at the empty beginning of a canvas. I am uncertain where inspiration comes from. I only know that he always eventually shows up.What's the point of having so many feelings if they all want to happen at the same time or not at all? Art vomit...
As an artist, it is often too easy to "let things bleed out". There is an unspoken misconception in our profession that, in order to produce good work, our lifestyle must resort to undergoing heavy torture and despair; The deeper the valley, the higher the mountain. I believe this is only half true.
I have been debating for a long time as to whether or not I was going to share my story here. I suppose I have feared that by doing so, it would come off as unprofessional, or distract from what I've wanted my work to prove on its own. However, It is important to note that I somewhat feel like my work and my story are often one in the same.
I'm an abstract artist from St. Louis. For a while now I have been working diligently to be very intentional in expanding my life. Who we are is very dependent upon the choices we make and which parts of ourselves we decide to nurture. This is the place I come to nurture my artist.