My Art Story

I would love to think of my art story as lavish and whimsical as fairytales, but honestly, it comes up short. A couple of years ago when I went to the MET, I was taken away by the art and the beauty of each painting. The hours of work that went into each picture, sculpture, or set. But I didn’t recognize art for what it was until the friend I was with, who just finished a semester of art history, had insight on every artist or drawing, explaining the emotions behind the piece of work.

I appreciate art for what it is, meaning I get excited about museums and I love seeing artwork made by friends, but I wouldn’t say I have a passion for art or it’s my chosen outlet.  When I think of art, the first thing that comes to mind is the typical form of art. Meaning, a paper with some form of ink used to express one’s imagination, beliefs, or thoughts. However, in a sense, each person finds their own form of art. It’s simply finding a passion and using it as a form expression.

Above is a picture a childhood friend made. She is passionate about teaching as well as art. She often uses her art to express the emotional experiences that happen as a teacher and in her classroom.

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