A Rambling of Thoughts, Where I Tend To Repeat Myself

Tension between mess and form. Transparent layers of vulnerability. Beauty in imperfection. Life is raw. real. messy. Finding beauty in it all.

Yes, I know. This painting is an abstract piece of art. Your 2 year old could probably paint this. But, this isn’t about the mere surface of the painting. Look deeper. Try and understand and connect with the message being conveyed. What each line carries. What each transparent layer reflects back to you. Each mistake shown. Where faint remnants of messed up lines remain. This isn’t just a painting your 2 year old could paint. My painting holds so much of what it is I want to say. My real-time processing in trying to understand the state of things. Society. Humanity. My inner mind. Deepest thoughts. What weighs on my Heart. And dare I say, not to sound cliche, but truly, my soul. A mere reflection of everything inside of me coming into physical form in the medium of paint, in the style of abstract art. And if it looks like a 2 year old painted it, so be it. But, what I am trying to process here is… life itself.

The line in my painting is a journey. Trying to find completion, finality, a composition that makes sense. Seems easy, right? So easy your 2 year old could do it. Possibly. Probably. But, the journey of trying to find rhythm, composition, beauty, cohesiveness through a simple line is not as easy as it may seem. Finding composition takes much thought. Discovery. Messing up. Making mistakes. Finding what works. What doesn’t. Redirecting. etc. My paintings are a peek into the struggle in which it can be to find a composition that works, that speaks. But my painted line is more than that, it is a metaphor, or rather a reflection, of life. Life which is messy, complicated. We may be going one way only to learn we need to go another. We take detours. We mess up. We fall down. We get back up. Life hands us disappointment. Heartache, pain, We move on. We figure it out as we go. That’s life. It’s imperfect. But there is beauty in that.

In a world of the pursuit of perfection, of ai, perfectly curated lives, fakeness, I want my paintings to allow and hold space for the imperfect. An open invitation to be vulnerable. To simply just be you. I feel we’ve become so afraid of our own hearts. real connection. letting ourselves be seen, truly seen. Such heavy pressure on being perfect. I feel we are so afraid that if we are anything less than perfect, we’ll be abandoned, rejected, judged. I feel our society, humanity, is craving realness again. Real connection. But we are afraid to allow it. To allow ourselves to be raw, real. I feel our digital worlds have become some sort of weird defense mechanism to distract us from developing real, deep connections with people around us. I miss the times where strangers talked to each other. on flights, in the store, in line getting food, at the dentist office, what have you. The times where when we got together with family and friends we were truly present with each other. No distractions from a screen. I miss when the energy of people meant more than how perfect they looked. [This is a random tangent thought that just came to mind, a side reflection, a shallow small point among a myriad of deeper ways, that reflect the state of our society. But, I am honestly tired of seeing women who can’t move their forehead. lol. Like, it’s honestly silly. But also sad. to freeze the mere beauty of what it means to be human, which is to express ourselves fully. Body language is part of expressing ourselves. Our foreheads are part of that. Yet, we deny the beauty of showing and sharing ourselves through expression because we are so afraid of a deep line on our forehead. But it goes deeper than that (no pun intended). What has it become to value a smooth forehead more than being able to visibly show excitement, disappointment, sadness, joy, concentration, happiness, etc. The very things that make us human. Not being able to move your forehead denies vulnerability. Realness. I hope you see the comedic tragedy in this. Like, what a silly thing for humans to feel they need to not let their foreheads move. For what? An erasure of lines that beautifully shows the history of our life experiences and expressions? Anyway, tangent over.]

I feel we’ve become too protective in revealing our true selves to anyone because of the fear of rejection. What a disservice to self to not walk through life fully, openly, honestly. We may get hurt along the way, open up to the wrong people. But, we redirect. We move on. Remain open. Find the people out there for us, instead of locking inside ourselves. Because when we lock inside ourselves we are in turn denying some of the greatest emotions a human can have, which is love, connection, being understood, accepted, etc. Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of pain. Pain I’d never wish on anyone. But what a beautiful thing it is to feel pain, to learn from it, grow from it. And how much sweeter does it make joy feel when we do find those that can embrace us as our truest selves. I think the most beautiful thing about being human is the depth in which we can feel things. When we feel, it means we are alive. When we express, it means we allow enough safety in ourselves in being alive, in being who we are. Do we really want to walk through life half-dead? Deadening the very thing that beats inside our chest. So, here in this painting, you will see transparent layers of where I thought a line would work for the overall composition, but in fact didn’t. So I gently, but not fully, paint loosely over it allowing room for a new line that does work, but you can still see the remnant of the previous line under transparent layers. That’s vulnerability. Vulnerability in allowing others to see what’s beneath our facade. The vulnerability to be present around others without a screen in our face to distract us. The vulnerability to see the messy, imperfect parts of ourselves. The vulnerability to allow others in. The vulnerability to fully express (and show) how we feel, how we process the world and others around us. I hope my paintings allow the safe space for you to let your guard down and just let you be… you. To let things come to surface. To feel. Really feel. To allow others to connect. Really connect with you. Behind whatever defenses we’ve built up around ourselves, there is a purity, a delicate truthfulness of self underneath it all. And how sad that we feel we must cover parts of ourselves up.

I hope when one views my painting they feel the reflection in themselves that they are loved for every messy, imperfect, raw, real part of themselves. They are loved for the parts of themselves that they feel they need to hide from. I hope my paintings allow the invitation to walk through life more honest and real and true to oneself. Because there is beauty in the mess of life. And the most beautiful part of being human is to truly let our guards down, feel it, and connect with others in real, raw, honest ways. And I hope we can do so with gentleness, grace, kindness, understanding and softness with one another. To allow others to feel safe in being themselves. I can’t express enough how much I crave realness again. I feel suffocated by fakeness, shallowness, screens, distractions, consupmtion, the weight of perfection, the pursuit of perfection. Let’s enjoy life again in the purest sense. Less consumption. Less meaningless distractions, Less focus on appearance, more focus on realness.

And, in honor of being open and honest, these are all things that I personally deeply struggle with at times. Maybe as a result of societial pressures. Maybe as a result of having bad people in my life. Shrinking myself so small in order to stay safe, to survive. Maybe my paintings are more of a promise to myself, to, in spite of what I’ve been through, I will keep showing up, never shrinking myself again. To live life fully, wide-open. Authentically. Kindly. Gently. Realizing that when it gets rough, I can redirect. Learn. Grow. Show up. Find my people. Not run or hide from the things that shaped me. But to be vulnerable. Connecting with others who relate. I deeply want real connection. I want authenticity to be valued, cherished, celebrated more. I want to experience what it means to be human in it’s fullest, purest depth. To enjoy the journey. Mess and all. Because what a beautiful thing it is to be human. To be alive.

These words. My words. To those who are reading. Might ruffle feathers. Might think what I have to say is dumb and doesn’t make sense. Might not relate to what I am saying. Make some feel defensive. Might have a different opinion on the matter. Or maybe you just felt like you wasted 10 minutes of your time that you’ll never get back. haha. And that’s beautiful if you do. Because you are feeling. And to me, that is one of the purposes of art. Is to make one feel. To spark thoughts and conversations. To become more introspective of our inner world and in turn bring it to light and share with others. This is a rambling, unfiltered way in how I feel about the topic in which I am writing about. Let’s live life fully, honestly. Let yourself be real. Wear your heart on your sleeve. As messy as it all can be, because we are not perfect, we are human. But please do so with kindness and grace towards yourself and others.

As my dad always says: enjoy the journey. And as my grandma’s legacy teaches: move through life with kindness and leave behind a legacy of love, despite what life might throw your way. And as I’d like to express: be real, be true, be your beautiful quirky authentic weird self. And by all means, let your forehead move. jk jk. You do you, girl. ;)

(These are my own words and my own words alone. AI, ChatGPT, what have you, will never be used in my expression of thought. There might be a place for such tools, but, never in my expression. A topic for another day.)