in between dreams;
Stories surround me, all the time. I feel like there’s a tale behind every person, every town, and everything else I happen to walk by. Each day feels like I’m passing through a connection of different worlds. Those worlds are people, the accumulation of stories. I like to think that these stories converge into one big picture, a universe.
Life’s a lot more colorful to me in that way; essentially, I’m always wondering about how people connect to each other. For this reason, interaction has always been a kind of fascination to me. I get inspired by the ways that individuals can reach out and touch each others’ minds and hearts. I want to become a part of that network of stories.
For someone who seems to want to speak or reach out to others, though, I seem to have a major problem: I’m really timid. I scramble for words because I never know what to say. Fear hinders my courage to speak up, and eventually I grow silent. Without a voice though, my feelings, my own stories, can only fester inside. These need to leave me, at some point. That’s probably why art appeals to me—it’s a gateway to a million different ways to convey a message. So, I draw, and then my art becomes my words. I use various materials, from charcoal to watercolors. Now that computer graphics is growing as a leading art form, I’ve also started exploring that realm. But I’m still not quite settled on one kind of media, as if I’m still trying to figure out how I want to speak. In the end, though, I don’t think I ever will find a single focus; that way, I’m not limited to what I can use.
Because my art subjects are always surreal or fantasy-driven, perhaps the stories I mean to tell are fables, allegories. It seems my imagination runs wild the more I hold in the thoughts I just can’t seem to explain. So I tend to like sleeping on them, wondering how I can portray them in my work. And in my dreams, I befriend my fears; I feel as if I could finally find the courage to share my own stories with others, as well as harbor theirs. But in waking, I’m suddenly intimidated all over again, unsure of how to express myself to others once more. It gets tough, sure. But this is where art becomes a key, the one I use to unlock doors and find my way through. When my art allows my stories to come into life, I can share them with others. And nothing makes me happier than being able to connect to someone with the things that I create.
