It's one of my favorite places. I can close my eyes and go back there instantly. It was always my corner of the universe. A room cluttered with anything an artist's heart could desire. Wood cabinets with their doors off or cracked open filled to the brim with whats its and whose its, paper hanging every which way. A wall of old ceramic molds stuffed in their musty boxes. You could smell the old acrylic paints, crusty oils, damaged watercolors stashed in Tupperware boxes. Brushes of every shape size and various states of damage haphazardly thrown into glass jars or old pottery. All stuffed in this beige cell of a school room lined with years of self portraits, landscapes, pottery, and other various art projects. I still never knew where any thing was and had to ask every day where any given thing happened to be. Mr. Liner's art class. I know deep down it was unkempt but for a time that was my corner of the universe and I had access to anything I wanted. I wanted to learn to airbrush, he pulled out his compressor and airbrush. Wanted to learn some watercolor, he allowed me to use his personal set of high end paints and the nice brushes. Long gone are those days (I hated high school so I'm not nostalgic to go back.) But I often thing back to that hour a day I had to do anything my artistic heart wanted.
I've had a pretty great life. I've gotten to do some of the coolest things! I wanted to learn photography and nabbed a job with Lifetouch at the Target Portrait Studio. That's right, I took those overly posed fake adorable baby photos and loved every minute of it and that was on film before everything switched to digital. I've waited tables, had a stint trying to be a tattoo artist, fell in love with wine while working for a bottle shop, and just closed the chapter to my cheesiest job with MouCo Cheese Company (xoxo). I've been incredibly blessed to have all of them at the time I needed them and every one of them offering a lesson but it wasn't until recently that I noticed a common theme. I somehow direct all of my efforts to drawing. I can remember wanting to be a Sunday morning comic artist like Schultz since I was in kindergarten.
I'm coming to realize I somehow pursue art in every job I do. So why not start as a free-lance illustrator? So here I am setting up my own corner of the universe.
Every piece of clothing I wear has paint or ink on it.
I'd rather bump elbows than shake hands. Not because I have germ-a-phobia (though I'll tell you that) but because my nails are caked in paint and I scrubbed so hard to get it off my hands are chapped.
I constantly see colored spots because my glasses are covered in tiny flecks of watercolor.
Art supplies litter every corner of my home.
I hear you Universe.
I've decided I want to be an illustrator.
