A couple images from the first few weeks of class. I am back to basics... shapes! (Pretty soon my daughter will be learning more advanced things in her 4 year old class. Haha.)
This was an assignment for my Artist's Composition class. It does not tell the whole story, but focuses primarily on my artistic development. It is long, and some of it sad, but I hope that you enjoy it and see the wonderful journey I am on! (And I am bursting with excitement because I got an "A" for this piece!)
Rachael Reynolds
LA108-OL4
Robert Tindall
February 27th, 2010
"Contradictions and Convictions of a Passionate Artist"
A lover of old and new, uncommon and mainstream, a dreamer and a realist, bold and shy; I am a unique personality, and a bit of a contradiction. I was born in Wyoming. Between Oregon and Washington I have encountered all but the first few months of my life; from joys to despair, from heartbreak to dreams come true, from a child to motherhood, but one constant is that I am still a student. Always learning, each day a new day to grow and thrive.
I have loved the feel of art from the first moments a drawing implement was put into my hands. Never did I scribble, but in very focused and detailed strokes created small areas of blocking. It was because of this that my parents, (though I credit my mother the most for her gentle pushes to create to my heart's desire), encouraged my every artistic endeavor, made sure I received art supplies for every occasion. I couldn't be found without a sketchbook, carrying it wherever I went. Often sneaking downstairs, creaking the steps as I slowly descended at very early hours trying to get some time alone with my pencil and paper without stirring anyone in the house. I would take it on field trips and to my sports practices and games. My work was always looked on with approval and encouraged me to keep practicing through my busy schedule. I loved hearing people's positivity towards my creations. I was not popular or accepted by my peers much after we moved to Washington when I was 7 years old. So, I craved the affirmations that my art seemed to achieve. Such a perfect creative environment; drive to succeed, support and provision for the artist rising in me.
In a single moment, a breath, life can change so dramatically. November 1995, 12 years old, I admit that I heard quite a racket of noise at about 11:45pm one night. Due to many house renovations over the years turning a "fixer-upper" into a livable and pleasant home, I assumed, that it was late night work on the house. Only, I woke the next morning to learn my mother was rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night. Healthy, young and told for years that nothing was wrong despite a nagging feeling my mother had; how could she be hospitalized. Why? How? The questions were an avalanche inside my head. An erupted brain aneurysm, my mind tried to grasp at the concept and the consequences of this uncontrollable event. Details poured in, first hours at a time... eventually stretched into weeks and months of numbers, percentages, possibilities and an upturned life at the peak of my escape from childhood into a much scarier world that possibly held no mother. No mom? Three younger brothers, a father permanently attached to her bedside and a house to take care of. I would have to be mom, that's just what I'd have to do. What a burdensome thought to carry at the age of 12. My mother underwent two brain surgeries, risky themselves, and an eye surgery for a whale-shaped blood pool that was a repercussion of the rupture and had blocked her main vision in one eye. A full year of turmoil, recovery and uncertainties, my mother walked away from the incident with hardly any evidence of the tragedy, aside from the physical scars, and has continued life with only minor setbacks, mostly related to the surgeries. It was a miracle, of that we were certain, and something we never lost sight of as the years continued. Despite her miraculous recovery against all odds, I was numb to the events during those crucial times, unaware I had burdened myself. In retrospect, I see a number of things more clearly. Which is usually the case with life. So much easier to see once life has fast-forwarded to a place where I can get a bigger picture of the good that came from things I once felt were awful and the choices I could have made differently.
Though my early schools were not focused on art, my own passion helped me to pursue those creative cravings so well nurtured by my mother, into high school where I finally had proper instruction about art. Once the shock of my mother's near-death experience had worn off, I struggled within myself over the effects of that monumental event and had to figure out how to cope with my emotions through writing, poetry and my artwork. Those years were dark and heavy like a storm cloud that hung in the air, stifling and confusing. I bottled my emotions, afraid to let anyone see my pain. When it was too much I would release in a torrent of words, whether they were mine or those of another author, or I buried deeper into my artwork. Much of my creative expressions from that timeframe are sad and lonely types of work. I knew how to be goofy and laugh pretty easily if the mood struck me. Pain, hurt, anger and sadness were a struggle for me. My creativity was the only venue I found sufficient for all that I felt deep inside. Even then, I still found ways to mask it from the outside world, riddled and buried in the subtleties of my work. A poem I wrote during that time really marks a low point in my life, featuring thoughts about wondering who I really was inside and whether that was worth anything at all. Searching for myself, seeking my purpose and doubting everything I did, this poem was almost an acceptance of ruin in my life, but hope was present and that was enough.
It was during that time of introspect and discovering who I truly was that I had an amazing art teacher, Mr. Wegener. He significantly challenged my small, comfortable ideas of art and pushed me into experiencing and learning to appreciate many facets and styles of art. One thing I have always struggled with, and most drastic during my high school years, is Obsessive Compulsive Perfectionism. This was not something that spanned only certain areas of my life, but spread like a plague in every part of me. Strange habits; repeated flicking of light switches, tapping both feet to "even out" the feeling of the rhythm in my feet, chewing a certain number of times on each side of my mouth, and all sorts of other oddities entered my life, center stage. It was laughed at in all circles, used to torture me in math class, and invaded my creative world. So stubbornly perfectionistic about all of my work I was confined to very specific styles, genres and how I would go about tackling the project.
One specific moment has engrained itself into my memory bank portraying how my art teacher would challenge me as an artist. I remember that room so vividly, still. The high school having been started my Freshman year, the room was almost new but the evidence that art reigned were present with smudges, stains and creativity hung in every corner, on lines and lockers. The smell of art; cleaners, paper and so many supplies, particularly the dusty flavor the room always had from the large amount of charcoal and pencil work. As our teacher commonly would do, he had a particular project in mind for the session and told us to collect our boards from our lockers and our supplies from the bins. The usual classroom madness ensued with the banging of locker doors, the shifting of the stools on the tile floor, and the rush to get everything and get settled back in for the project at hand. I was collecting supplies and realizing that he had forgotten the erasers. Politely I informed him of this mistake, or he announced it with great fervor to the class; my memory seems faulty on that point, but with either scenario it was at that moment that the world almost seemed to stop and spin at the same time for me. We were expected to draw our hand… with no eraser in only 15 minutes?! I wouldn't be able to, I couldn't… I…, I was freaking out… Very kindly but firmly Mr. Wegener gave me a knowing look and assured me that I would be fine, to do my best regardless of how comfortable it was. After some encouragement I reluctantly did what I could with the assignment, completely bitter that he didn't understand that I needed an eraser and at the prospect that I would ruin my drawing and have no way to "fix" it. I was also upset that the time was nowhere close to being long enough to achieve much. To my surprise, I loved what I was able to finish and felt accomplished afterwards for not using an eraser. This is only one memory of many I have of how I grew and devoured all things creative during that time. Mr. Wegener is an artist who made a substantial impact on my art and my life because of what he invested in me. Curiosity, appreciation, challenge and a whole range of art new to me that opened my world in a whole new way. I studied some creative writing classes and took as many art classes as I could get away with and graduate. I soaked up as much creativity as I could, in and out of school.
After high school, my sketchbook began attracting dust due to life and a busy schedule. With that outlet visited less frequently, I found my creative side surfacing in other areas. I began working in a photo shop, mostly selling mainstream, bottom-line equipment and working with the developing and printing of pictures. That sparked my creative juices and sent me plunging into photography. I would wander the outdoors, any weather and any season, in search of amazing details and moments to capture. My camera became a permanent fixture, always with me and helping me to see the world in a unique way. Life continued, adding a husband and children to my busy schedule. I did not find much time to pursue much artistically.
Ultimately this led to a home-based photography business doing outdoor portraits and a number of weddings as well. This gave me the opportunity to quit my job, stay at home with my children, (a lifelong dream come true), and still try to help provide for our growing family. Meanwhile, my daddy (who was unexpectedly and surprisingly excited about my pursuits of an artistic career) helped me to network with a local free-lance graphic designer whole had quickly become successful and recognized in our area for his talents. Grateful to get my start from him and learn whatever I could from another local designer, I started to include it into my home business. Learning the unique style of parenting that comes with having more than one child and still trying to incorporate work into my life, I spent far too many hours on the computer and wasn't accomplishing enough as a mom or an entrepreneur. Nearly two more years I sporadically worked photo shoots and specialized mostly in senior portraits and wedding photography while juggling a home and a family with very busy lifestyles. I love photography and graphic design, but the time it demanded was difficult to give it the attention it needed and still enjoy my childrens short years of childhood. Frustrated and yet longing for more creativity in my life I was ready to hit the ground running with my business, completely dive in. I was hoping and praying I was doing the right thing for me and my family, especially with the specific area of interest I had chosen to pursue. Was that what I was meant to do?
Over the years my creativity found its place in many ways, many styles and as often as I could find the time and ability to be creative. Despite lapses in my sketchbooks, I had photography and graphic design as a business, scrap booking and craft projects and even my church involvement has included working on set design/construction. It is through the encouragement of some people I truly respect that I am returning to my sketches and paintings. I was at a point of trying to figure out where I needed to be and some gentle, but direct, reminders to return to my roots sent me searching for the artist inside of me. It was with this renewed dedication for my art that I began looking for instruction that would challenge me where I would shy away and teach me where I had no knowledge. I had been dreaming of a school that I felt was qualified and a constructive place to learn, change, challenge myself and grow into the artist I will continue to become throughout life. That pursuit led me to the online doors of AAU. I had searched throughout my ten years since high school and had never found or heard of this amazing school. I honestly believe that this was the right time for me to stumble upon the doorway to a new chapter in my life. This threshold that is leading into the unknown of my future, that I am more confident than ever to walk in the knowledge that I will be doing what I am passionate about for as long as I am able. I still have obstacles that challenge me every day and I am excited to say that they are not going to hold me back.
My life has had its ups and downs like any other, but I do not see my life as tragic. It is a journey that has led me to a place I would not give up for anything, all a part of the path I needed to walk. I would be nowhere in my art if not for the love, support and encouragement of my teachers, friends throughout life, an amazing family and my faith in God. They are the driving force that helps my passion to come alive and continue to give me the confidence to get through it all. My husband sacrifices so much to give me the ability to pursue my passion of art. He has seen me through a lot of my struggles and my triumphs. Daily I am reminded how truly blessed I am to be married to this man. I have the biggest and most amazing family, without them I would be lost. No matter what struggles you face in life, strong support and the right attitude are sure to give you a silver lining, if you take the time to find it. I will press on towards my goals and aspirations, that is my purpose and my delight; to passionately pursue and discover the artist I am destined to be.
Good art provokes a viewer's mind and emotions. It can capture moments in time, fragments of thought and give rise to feelings. Drawing and painting are the foundations for many forms of art. Although some artists learn these elemental truths and move on, some continue to create in this form of art. Here I am, an artist, with a passion to draw and paint. Drawing, by definition, is "producing an image of someone or something by making a line or mark on a surface". Though different meanings of the word draw are to: "be the cause of a specified response, attract someone to come to a place or an event; induce someone to reveal or do something; direct or attract someone's attention to something; reach a conclusion by deduction or inference from a set of circumstances; formulate or perceive a comparison or distinction." (Wikipedia online dictionary) I think that drawing should connote the meanings of "draw" in a broader sense, rather than the denoted version alone. All art should have these qualities. Our learning, progress and possibly even our success may come from the last person or thing we expect it to. I don't want to miss out on an opportunity to learn something because I am so stubborn in my artistic perspective. That doesn't mean that I have to like everything I see or use everything I learn in my personal art. But, broadening my perspective gives me an edge. Being willing to learn and change while holding to my own style and virtue holds a wealth of knowledge and opportunity. Pushing to get to that next level, challenging myself and working at becoming a better artist is the best lesson I could possibly have. While we learn to shape the world around us and in our minds with our mediums onto something tangible, our lives should continue to change shape in a positive way. If it doesn't help us grow as artists and as people then we have lost touch with something very important in our artwork.
Appreciating what I do is incredibly important in the artistic process. I won't rely on everyone else to give me my identity as an artist. I contemplate the world and everything in it with my artistic notions. In some ways it allows me to deal with the world and to put on rose-colored glasses to see it in a different way. I create because it is a part of me. It flows from me without warning, leaving a wake of paint drippings, charcoal dust, paper and canvas. I love anything that I can create or inspire with artistic thought or image. I want to give others a "golden ticket" into my creative world. My artwork is guided by the desire to evoke a response in myself and those who view it. I intend to draw, paint and use all forms of art to draw people to look inside, to feel deeply and express themselves passionately. I plan to learn from the masters and then expand on it with something of our modern culture, to create something unique and wonderful. I can't say exactly how my art will be portrayed or received, my education has only begun and my life is not complete. Only in the realm of my artistic view, giving it a life like no other artist. We don't have to speak the same global language or artistic language to learn from it. I want to bridge the world with my art. I want to touch people's lives… from the inside out. The mind, heart and soul are the core of our being and that is where I want my art to live; in the minds, hearts and souls of those that view it.
Kaylana with her teacher. :) I LOVE hearing all the wonderful things she is learning and how much she loves it. Still can't wait to bring her back for homeschooling though... Trying to be patient, this is just a season in our lives. But, remembering to enjoy it all is SO important!
