From the Archives: Art School

I attended a private art institute when I was 17-18.

Their philosophy was art has to be heavily conceptual. It couldn't just exist to be beautiful, whimsical, playful, reflect life, or bring an atmosphere to a space or calm and peace to a person.

Most the students bought into this idea of highbrow art, making the regular group critiques absolutely brutal. One class in particular I would cry on my way home every week after having a room full of people telling me that my art didn't mean anything. If an artwork had no deep political or social concept behind it, it was dismissed.

This led to two opposing states manifesting: a deep dissatisfaction with my artworks and myself as I kept trying to fit into a box that I was never meant to operate from, and my most expansive works (at that point in time) being created.

For this reason, I do not detest the time I spent in art school. It widened my practice and pushed me to pick up new mediums and explore new styles. I also got to create art for 14 hours a day, so you can just image how in love with the lifestyle I was.

However, I missed the beauty.

I don't think I saw a single landscape nor botanical artwork created that year.

I, myself, had still not discovered what landscape painting would bring out in me nor how obsessed I would become with creating them.

But I did miss painting beautiful flowers that made me feel something.