I feel right when I do my art. It’s kind of weird. I don’t hear others talk about the same thing. It feels powerful, because I’m able to see my vision — kind of like the man in the sky. My mission is to create some dope fucking art. This is what I see myself doing. It feels weird, having these visions, but yet, it feels good.
I should’ve realized this at the start when I made my first mural; I should’ve taken the hint, but I had a lot of fun doing the mural. I made a copy in a regular notebook, that I told my dad to buy. I was tracing it out with my art teacher, and she pushed the thought. I can make things from one single idea to a big massive thing, but it’s dangerous because it can keep going to another idea. Even if it was kind of shitty, a lot of middle schoolers that don’t know me know my name and art. I can see myself making so many murals and creating merch.
The other day I saw another mural next to mine, and at the moment I was kind of mad because they kind of copycatted my art, but I felt honored at the same time. There’s other people in my life that see the vision, but my parents don’t, and I’m trying to figure out how to let it go. It’s something that they’re not going to ask about; it’s not the culture they were born or around in.
At some point I want to get my own place, because I want to be supported on my vision, and on my own terms. I see myself working in this field, even if at the moment it’s blurry. I want to work with different people. There are moments when I’m kind of stuck in the past, which sucks. I’ve worked so hard for a long time, that I've stopped in some ways. For my 20th birthday, I wished that my parents understand my path as an artist. I desired their support, because everyday my dad would try and convince me to change majors. He would say stuff like “that will make you more money, and you’ll have a better job” and it makes me mad/depressed. Because, if they were to ask me, and maybe see the work that I am doing, maybe their mindsets would change.
Regardless of all the stuff I’ve been through, I’m still here. Despite all the dumbass boys, non-artsy people at school, and misunderstandings from my family, I’m still here. I thank god for my sister Esmeralda for supporting me and my art. As well as Portland being a place for art with all the weird graffiti and coffee shops. It excites me, and I want to do more art, everyday.