ARTiculations

It was for a distinct sense of fear that I never pursued a show as an art student. Not fear of criticism (I always surprised myself with how much I looked forward to critiques) but fear of failing to communicate precisely what I meant to express. Fear of being misunderstood via a work because it was somehow visually incomplete much like a broken sentence or an incomplete thought in the writing world. I was afraid I wan't getting my point across perfectly and so I wouldn't want to hazard confusion with the public. For the most part I truly enjoy my own work; the process satisfies me and the number of years it's taken me to develop confidence in my style, make up a treasured journey. Now, I'm not saying any of this from a place of ego but a hard learned place of joy and long awaited acceptance of the gift The Lord has given me. I had finally grown comfortable in my adulthood with the truth that only I can say what I need to say and only I can say it in my style. Each of us have a responsibility to utilize that which we have been given and quite frankly, it isn't for us to decide if we're "good enough" or "articulate enough" to share or not to share.

Like most creatives (of whatever medium) I share a similar story. Like the violinist who fell in love with their instrument at age 3 or the baseball star who used to sleep next to their ball, I can't remember a time when I wasn't writing or illustrating. This is what I do. Somewhere along the timeline of my life history I acquired an unfortunately all to common hyper-self-awareness about my art. As a learned perfectionist, I was less obsessive with whether or not what I put on the page was hyper-real or abstract but whether or not my viewers would get my message. Would I communicate effectively? Would they understand me? It wasn't until my early 20s, through a fortuitous friendship with a group of other street artists, did I really learn how to enjoy the freedom of process rather than the perfection of the end product. And just between you and me, I've noticed a seemingly more "perfect" end product on the pieces during which I relished the process.

This April I'm having my first show; not simply one piece in a juried show or a contributing piece in a friend's show. My very own. There's a nervous sort of excitement much like the anticipation one has looking forward to conversing with an dear friend. I'm eager to hear the feedback of these friends and neighbors and to be a part of the diverse artist community in Lebanon.



For more on family portraiture see:When I Can't Write I Draw.