In our lives, the lives we live daily. There are experiences we choose. The choices we make. Down to our existence and the way others perceive us; unfortunately in most cases out of our control. We are told we are responsible for the lives we live. The realms we occupy in defining who we are, and the things we deem valuable among our experiences. For me the realm I chose in defining the things I deem valuable was the art world. A pristine selection among intellect with a subtle and tame nature. With occasional feel for venture in the mix. The famous painter, known for his neo-expressionism in the 80’s, Jean Michel Basquait would say, “I don’t think about art when I’m painting. I try and think about life.” The way I would lose myself in painting, drawing, was the ultimate high for me, and others around me. The texture created with colored pencil upon paper, forms from my wildest and adolescent childhood through paint. The feel in materia with mixed media, along with the experimentation of each medium is nothing but priceless, and incomparable with anything I’ve experienced in my life. In my adulthood, where art and the development in art. Connections with others through art, and attending art based conjunctions is primary above most in my life. Family and friends also, when their available in this journey I’ve conquested. In this era in my life primarily. Where regressing social and unsettled foundations concerning my values regarding art, creativity, or just existing with my African-American, slight Asiatic diaspora are constantly under investigation. Like I haven’t had any additional representation communicating my beliefs among art is acceptable. In this day, or any other day, where palettes, hues, and colours confirm my appointment with the artistic awakening. The awakening among art, the fleshy reality, and the place I have bestowed upon my art is in this conclusion. Nobody told me when I was younger, there would come one moment where I would not have a choice in the realm I was being perceived in. Nobody told me, the effect it would have if I refused. Nobody told me the effects it would have with people around me, and repeatedly nobody told me. So I didn’t know. This is my awakening art practice. An unfamiliar skill and ability, having nothing to do with my previous successes. A talent I haven’t had to learn until now.

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    Before concluding my present moments with my awakening and new art practice, let’s introduce my narrative among art previous in conjunction with my artistic experience. In my previous art identities concerning the morality in my art and innocence from youth, from a child with the unfamiliar skills in creating stick figures and oblique forms.  Then a melancholy teenager, in the cusps with modern day blackness in culture, with non-stereotypical interests in Asian animation, video games, rejection with any features making me seem feminine, and the struggle for community with similar or relatable values. I was like any other child. Growing and developing in the world.  The objectivity concerning my art drawing formless stick figures, abstract shapes, houses, friends, family, social occasions, play with a variety in medium considering markers, generalized crayons, and colored pencils. With artistic memorabilia with multipurpose paper and computer paper, the epitome in artistic youth, shimmering, dazzling, compressed paper, coming from technological advancements from the inkjet printers in it’s fresh contributions for stationary, and artists alike. These advancements in my growing art practice, in the non-physicalities concerning experience lead me in the interest in anime’. A japanese art animation style reminiscent from the Asian decor collection my mother had cultivated, from the instincts her mother, a immigrant Filipino woman, whose early tradition in art collection maintained with porcelain kitchenware, oriental furniture, cabinets filled with statues, carvings, screens, paneled paintings, painted fans, illustrative scrolls, geisha dolls, and, lamps. These illustrative characters in high Asian society around the house, related my early age memories, with maturer themes in anime’ and manga, Japanese style comic books. 

 

   With the interest and enthusiasm in this very illustrative art form other than the preconceived style I had drawn during my elementary highschool narratives. Once lost among my very predominantly black features, and ancestral history concerning the connection among the Asian home decor and the natural media concerning Asian’s telling Asian stories. My figures, characters, and imagery reflected drawing pale skinned characters, with colored eyes, straight hair, pointy features. Not that there was any untruth in Asian’s voicing their stories. I was so uneducated among, umm, my own ancestral history, I disregarded contributions made in modern day society from my African and Aeta heritage lineage. Concerning this topic, I ponder cultural representation among others in another similar interest like cooking. You visit certain restaurants for a savoriness in flavor. Concerning black culture, just cause I’m a representation for all other variants in blackness. Visiting an African American restaurant, you would predict African American recipes, or just American recipes from this restaurant. There isn’t anything lackluster about a fusion African-American restaurant, or, African-American’s simmering aromatic Swedish cuisines. Just the representation and cultural pride in rooting yourself in your culture, is familiar.  Although my hand proficient in illustrating Asian fantasy had prospered, similar themes in character drafts, sketches, and comics also peered through my visual communication among my young age. Through my early years in college, taking classes about African-American culture and the diaspora concerning Afrocentric heritage was restored themes and illustrative art musing black and brown characters, envisioning black fantasy, spiritualism, mythology, inputting and connecting with the manga style practiced when I was younger. These themes not conventional for African American artistry and expression, have fused into the style and art aesthetic, for I, the artiste, visual composure, crafting elements, in a very childlike manner. Those were the tales from my youth. These tales grew quite a reputation for me, and umm, in a remarkably prosperous way. My initial community respected it with art commissions, partnerships, art sales, collaborations, and so many other opportunities. For instance, my recurring art commissions from Blue Niles Press here in umm, Sacramento did handsomely for my thriving art business. I would get legitimate work at the young at age 25, producing book cover designs for author and his fictional stories. These commissioned designs weren’t much. Just $300 for each design, where I had at least acquired four within his scope for work. These art commissions through Blue Nile Press, reminiscent from the Nile River in Egypt, Africa, were conducted through email. Not formally meeting the author himself. These art commissions purely in the opening stages in my art career, lead to other opportunities. I’m honored to have taken part with.  

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    Through the years my abilities, success, and community grew around me. Genuinely supporting my good efforts among the arts, and with art curation. During my art awakening practice in the beginning stages, I wasn’t sure the things happening with my perspective. During the heat in the pandemic, where many things were distorted with the concerned public, for COVID-19, and health safety. Things were distorted and through my art I communicated very vivid visual metaphors for the things taking dark place in society. In a way it had enhanced my confidence, along with the connections with those around me. Art shows with other artists quickly grew, manifesting a culturally open field for artists with a variety in backgrounds, sharing and discovering others interest in art. It was about nothing other than the initial priority I had from my youths discovery in art, then in the present time. Creating art and an environment where artists could share their art without slander or oppression. My place within the art community was in it’s prime. With none other than hard work, compatible partnerships from all different upbringings, and the center in it all the interest for art.

 

 Throughout the years, not interfering with other environments other than my own art competence, mature themes quickly were realized in my art. Not speaking or suggesting those themes were not there coherently taking place in real life, they just adapted visually through my art expression and voice. Somehow along the lines in ensuring art creations, community partnerships, and environments where artists could thrive, centered itself around my body, the hyper sexuality with it, and the actions leading with my art. Something I had never invested much time in, or payed attention to with my place in my realm and the values I deemed worthy. This hyper-influential source where sex was the primary focal point, values, beliefs, and how business was conducted. Had seeped very slowly into my realm. This and the unwanted attention from audiences whose narratives rather not deal with the ill-fitting chronologies from slavery (or the celebration from it’s abolishment) had creeped through a very random source. This awakening among my art practice was rude, and unflattering with everything I had been taught until now, with an indirect, and common tension with all my relationships around me. Something unfortunate for a female who received nothing but compliments about my appearance, until the reality set in. I was not made for this environment, or, I was surely not gonna blossom here. These preconceived restrictions I had given my bodies access with people I have had a connection with, shifted around my art. Bringing cultural, stereotypical, and community influences/perspectives, revealing themselves in my art, in spirit, mythology, and legends.  This restricted access with my body of art, called upon the misogynistic and hyper-sexual references concerning the human body in my work. Without much needed acceptance from society or dwindling relations. I trailed after the influences, looking for truth, and rooting my findings with imagery and also my place concerning my black female form. Things had shifted in my realm in a unprecedented mindset and capabilities, I had never thought I’d take part in. 

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    This art awakening was the reality for countless stories in history. While I didn’t have much issue with it’s concept. I had a large and unnerving issue with the conclusional audience my realm was slowly yet surely, melting into. The customs, mindsets, perverse thinking, and constant complaining about umm sexual and physical gratification through art was, and is driving me crazy. Near the brink of insanity — foremost. The routine attempts in influencing my character, routine eating habits, and physical demeanor was redundant, unneeded, and unnecessary regarding my experience in the art field. The rude awakening contemplated my place concerning my education, the primary source for artistry, and receptivity for other arts differentiating from my own. This art awakening practice was a sure test in the things I had accepted in my life, and the things, regardless with how they were packaged, were disregarded. If anything it was the blatant obligation in having a random source voice it’s opinions about my art and my life concerning it, and it being the truth for a lot of people I didn’t know. In an irritating and uninformed pattern, daily. The art awakening also called for supplementary abilities, I had not ventured in previously with my art practice. Anonymous, obscure, and hidden actions were needed among the palettes concerning the implementation and creation for my paintings. Then basically, the noviceness in attempted adaptability was bothersome. Learning new skills wasn’t the issue, it was the crisis, and uncertainty in aching schedules concerning art which was the problem. Something I didn’t think I’d be responsible for, until now. The unsettling growing pains were settling in, and it was pains in a game I never asked to be apart of. Until I recall, the infuriating explanation in why these things were happening to me, and not anybody else around me. So many things were unanswered in this awakening and are currently. Though there have been multiple apologies about putting my art career among the lines in noviceness. I could respect actions replacing just mere and empty words. My heart goes out for anybody who also experienced their awakening in art in the same unknowingly oppressive manner. Making life hard and difficult for us and those around us.

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     In summary, the realm which I had curated from youth, my adolescency, has shifted. Rules from the normal routine instruction I received in the elements in tamed living, and routine lifestyles are no longer accepted in this perverse reality. While I am disheartened in the changes and laborious strains in this realm. I’m enthusiastic about the experiences I’ll gain, the connections I’ll make, and the prizes achieved in it’s maneuverability through key coded palettes, legends, and confirmed appointments with painting. The responsibility in it all is drastic and something I had not envisioned for my life. Cheers to followed instructions, less complaining, and reaping the substantial benefits in the new shocking reality called life. The art awakening practice. Sink or swim.