“Fear doesn’t go away. The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day.”
— Steven Pressfield
To summarize the path that has brought me here:
- 2015 UNC-Chapel Hill: Premed –> Journalism School –> Fine Arts
- 2017: Dropped out –> Became a stripper –> Drove to Mount Shasta, CA to become certified as a Wilderness EMT
- Summer of 2018 NYAA –> Fine Arts
- 2018 NC State –> Art&Design study
- 2019 NC State –> Double Major in Art&Design and Plant Biology
In 2016, I was enrolled in two art classes: painting and digital photography. After spending about 10 hours constructing a still life in oil paint, I went out that evening to take some shots for my photography course. This was my first glimpse into the tremendous advantages of technology.
I had spent about 2 hours in the woods with my camera, frolicking around and pushing some buttons. Afterwards, I sat down to examine the results. They were fantastic and I was paralyzed. Recollecting the immensity of time spent earlier in my art studio meticulously placing each stroke of paint. Back aching and vision turning stale, I had pressed through those hours in pain only to produce a muddled painting. Its imperfections mocked my twitching eyes as I compared, back-and forth, to the next image on my phone.
My painting definitely captured the lack of inspiration I felt towards those fake apples and cheap Tupperware. The fluid of these thoughts erupted throughout my body and condensed on my skin. Shit…. what am I doing?
I returned to browsing the photographs I had snapped that night. Snapped. This device, this camera, this technology had enabled me to capture deeply provocative compositions in a matter of seconds. Images that would take years to replicate on canvas.
With a squealing fart, I watched as my artistic alliance began to deflate into a saggy heap of what used to be a grandiose sense of self-worth. I prodded the fully empty sack of plastic with my toe and stared at it for approximately one year.