Statement of Intent, Part I
Academy of Art, San Francisco
I grew up with my mom’s easel and palette at the end of the kitchen table where she would paint every day. It is a difference experience, growing up with a mother who is an artist. Walks down the road turn into lessons of color theory and composition. Rainy afternoons are filled with clay, paint, string and paper mâché. It was this childhood of creativity that has kept art nearby throughout my life. It is a place that I go to that helps bring me back to a silent and still place inside me, as well as a way for me to remember who I am. To those who do not make art, it is not necessarily an easy task to explain the significance of doing so; for those of us who do, it is vividly clear that art is both necessary and important.
I grew up with my mom’s easel and palette at the end of the kitchen table where she would paint every day. It is a difference experience, growing up with a mother who is an artist. Walks down the road turn into lessons of color theory and composition. Rainy afternoons are filled with clay, paint, string and paper mâché. It was this childhood of creativity that has kept art nearby throughout my life. It is a place that I go to that helps bring me back to a silent and still place inside me, as well as a way for me to remember who I am. To those who do not make art, it is not necessarily an easy task to explain the significance of doing so; for those of us who do, it is vividly clear that art is both necessary and important.
