What’s My Mood?

My mood dictates my art. Which memory decided to strike the heartstrings? Which interaction at the mall sparked my inspiration? What stirs deep within my soul, itching to come out?

I don’t truly have an artistic process (which so many people ask). I would, for example, take the rush of emotions I felt from a negative altercation and carve them onto the canvas with my hands until it felt complete. It was afterwards that I’d find its depth and purpose.

Some call this intuitive art, others call it lazy. I call it my way of being. I’ve tried to plan out pieces for galleries, putting pressure on the ideas and inspiration. And shocker, my art suffers for it.

I can not, and will not, force the art out of me. It has to come to my soul at just the right moment, and then poof, it arrives to be seen in this world.

Who I am is my art, and my art is who I am.