[new beginnings, my attempts at fine art.]

people often ask me what my art is about--particularly, the self-portrait series. my mom would say, with regards to self-portrait as frida kahlo, "why are there tears coming out of her eye?"--i, then, converted the tears into a single stream of water, in hopes of masking the sadness of it. the truth is that i put my soul into every painting i make. art is my passion and the greatest source of my vulnerability. i cannot help it--it's the requisite process of creativity.

the reason why i abandoned my fine-art pursuits at vassar is because i felt too exposed at the critiques (i was insecurely fraught, a victim of self-doubt). now that i've been painting as a hobby again, without the pressures of my professors approval and with new faith in myself, my creativity has flourished. i do not fear failure because it cannot affect me with the same salience as grades can.

the scary truth is that when i paint, i pour my heart onto the canvas (cheesy?), it's true and unavoidable. i paint self-portraits because my face is the one i have the most access to and have practiced with the most. it's the rembrandt/frida kahlo thing.

the result is that i paint myself how i see myself---which is always more revealing than i sincerely hope. when looking at my finished self-portraits (of which there are only two), i've found eery symbolism that displays some of my darkest insecurities. my hope is that my viewers won't realize the meaning behind the symbols---they'll be too distracted by the colors or the form to see the message behind them.

maybe i shouldn't be afraid of the dark elements. one of my professors at vassar told me (after she saw me crying in the hallway outside of the classroom), "deep angst is the heart of great art". the more commissions i secure and the more responses i get, the more i realize that she must be right.

insecurely yours,

favorite fish