When Did It all start?
One of the most common questions people ask after my bold introduction: “I’m an artist” is “How did you decide you wanted to be an artist?”
My initial thoughtless response answered solely in my brain is “Why does anyone decide to do anything? Because they love it.” And then I quickly remind myself that not everyone is that lucky, and not everyone chooses to work in a field they love and are passionate about, if any choice is given. Humbled, I respond with some form of: “Well, I’ve always had the desire to draw and paint, and I doodled so much as a child that my teachers reportedly began hoarding my school assignments, unwilling to throw out my adorable and precious little drawings in the margins. Eventually, my parents took notice. After several years of looking for the right art class to enroll me in, my grandpa stumbled on a flyer in his neighborhood advertising private art lessons. We contacted the teacher, and she was the perfect fit. I took weekly or bi-weekly lessons for five years, in addition to 6 years of art class as an elective in school.”
As more time passes, I realize this answer covers the “how” and not the “why,” which is, I assume, what people really want to know. All of the above is completely true, but fails to convey the deep emotion and love I feel for creativity and the world of art.
I’m a naturally curious person, naturally drawn to objects, people, and places I find beautiful. This isn’t a particularly extraordinary trait, but with it came the inclination to replicate it, or to make it last longer. If I had a favorite coloring page, I would trace it onto a clean sheet of paper so I could color it again. If I saw a beautiful flower, I wanted to pick it and keep it forever. I have abundant evidence of all of my favorite dresses belonging to my cousins and animated princesses scribbled by chubby child hands all over notebooks and scrap paper. Eventually, art became a form of escapism. When I felt stuck in my suburbs, I could draw a jungle, a forest, an island, a castle… And for the time it took me to draw that little world, I was there.
The key is: I never stopped having these impulses. Instead of “growing out of it”, I kept drawing, kept crafting, kept googling pictures of mountains and waterfalls and ballgowns, pushing myself to make it better all the while.
I was extremely lucky to be raised and influenced by creative women who always gave me permission to follow my creative curiosity, be it drawing, sewing, writing, or painting candy corns on nails. I never needed to ask permission to be an artist, it was freely given.
Did I have natural talent? I suppose I developed the “artist eye” at an incredibly young age. But it would have taken me a lifetime to learn on my own what I’ve learned from artist teachers, mentors, colleagues, and friends. I consider drawing and painting to be like playing an instrument: anyone can learn it given enough time, patience, and desire to do it and do it well.
So, why did I choose visual art as my vocation? Because I’m in love with the beauty in the world around me, and I have a strange, constant desire to immortalize small and finite moments of wonder. My art practice allows my mind to wander other worlds, gardens, beaches, and skies. I meet people whose stories are just as (if not more) rich and surprising as my own, with winding, twisting plots yet unfinished. I invite you to join me on these journeys, if not to meet new people and explore new places, then to remind yourself that there’s so much in your own worlds to fall in love with.
Maryn Blanco | November 25, 2023
