Image Taken by Aiden Rust
Within my practice, I tend to skew away from the pristine nature of art making, and the processes that lie within it. I started my career with a focus in graphic design with the understanding that a career in the fine art world wasn’t within my reach, and I had to settle. Graphic design held many qualities that I still incorporate into my practice daily. Typography was a huge driver for my interest in the field, I really enjoyed how type looked and functioned. The process of manually translating a type face felt special, and has always given my mind a sense of ease. However, while present in the graphic design program I quickly began to despise the client and creator relationship, and creating an image based on someone else’s preferences. It took control away from me in a way that felt harmful. I didn’t like the computers, the programs made me angry, and I hated being stuck in a box. I pursued printmaking since it simply satisfied a credit. I fell in love with the process. While I felt somewhat out of place and confused on how to function within the studio, something about it felt right. Soon the hatred for the disconnect between the process and the maker's hand came to fruition, again. Involving my body in my work felt meant to be. I could feel myself in my process, I could lose myself in my process, and that was new and exciting for my younger self.
I found myself gravitating towards the processes with less constraints. I explored exclusively with screenprinting and block printing. Exploring how I can layer images, play with color, and create a sense of depth in my work. I really value not having the clearest plan, especially within printmaking. I like to find myself and the image through the process. With screenprinting, I find that I tend to “revv up” to print while burning the screens and choosing my images. The buffer window between preparing and printing is incredibly meaningful to me, and is needed for my creative process.
The relationship between me and the materials I choose is an important part of my practice. I tend to gravitate towards unwanted, or left over materials. I enjoy the lack of choice I have by “settling” on a board or canvas. It allows me to remove the weight of the decision, and focus solely on how it communicates to me. Wood is one of my favorite materials to work with. It might be the natural trait it holds, or its unruliness, either way I feel a strong pull towards it. Between painting and printmaking, the wood works with me when I create an image. It decides where the paint goes and how the carving takes place just as much as I do. As I carve, the board fights back. It rips up my lines and cuts through positive space even when I want anything but. As frustrating as it can be, I find comfort in the loss of control. The images I created are not only representations of myself, but they are representations of the teamwork that comes to light as I embark on the image making journey.
Language and communication have been an ongoing struggle in my life. Growing up as an individual with an audio processing disorder and autistic tendencies, the world has always been hard to digest. I found myself left out of conversations due to my lack of understanding, or feeling isolated in my different perspective. I felt trapped in my head and body, overwhelmingly disconnected from what was happening around me. As I ventured into adulthood, and began to learn how to navigate the world on my own, removed from any family that had a say in how I did things. I allowed myself the safety to be messy, to be intentional, and to be mindful of my intuition and my internal world. There’s a level of safety to allowing paint to make its mark on my clothes and space, to choose colors based on feelings and not what I believe “should” be there, and to allow myself to grow my practice. Now, I ensure I approach art making with a mindful stance. Paying attention to what about painting, or printmaking feels so good, and following those markers. This has allowed me to expand what I believe I’m capable of within my practice. Art is not what I think it should be, it’s what I feel like it needs to be.