Art, Rebellion, and Finding My True Style
Art has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I was always coloring—crayons in hand, filling up coloring books, sketching on blank sheets of paper, or creating chalk masterpieces on my grandparents' sidewalk.
And if I was inside? You’d find me painting at their kitchen table, completely lost in the joy of making something new. Looking back, little me would be absolutely thrilled to get her hands on my current art supplies! But I wouldn’t be where I am today without first learning the foundations—drawing realistically, understanding grayscale values, and appreciating the basics of art.
I was homeschooled from pre-K through high school, which meant no traditional art teacher. My mom was the one who taught my siblings and me life skills like cooking, cleaning, and sewing (which I didn’t love, if I’m being honest), along with the usual math, history, and science. Art, however, was mostly a self-taught adventure. One of my most treasured gifts was a watercolor set and an art book she gave me for my 14th birthday—I still have that book and refer back to it even now!
During this time of playing and experimenting with watercolor, I became fascinated with phoenixes. One day, I painted one, and it turned out stunning! (Not to brag, but 14-year-old me was pretty proud.) I gifted it to my seventh-grade catechism teacher, which was a big deal because it was one of the first times I gave a painting to someone outside of my family. The emotions I saw in his eyes when he received it stirred something deep within me. That was the moment I knew—art wasn’t just something I did for fun; it was going to be a huge part of my life.
Fast forward to college, and I was still painting with watercolor, but mostly for my own joy. The school I attended didn’t focus on watercolor; their main mediums were acrylic and oil. Since oil paint took forever to dry (and patience was not my strong suit), I gravitated toward acrylic.
Learning a new medium while also figuring out my painting style was a journey. One thing I didn’t love about college art classes? The endless rules! Professors dictated what we had to paint, leaving no room to explore our own style. There were too many guidelines, too many restrictions, and I wasn’t surprised when, after graduating in 2016, I hit a creative block. Suddenly, no one was telling me what to paint—no deadlines, no critiques, no professors insisting that the only way to make money as an artist was to apply for grants and create their kind of art.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a quiet rebel when it comes to rules. I like to test limits, push boundaries, and see what happens. After college, I spent years stumbling around, trying to find my footing in the art world. I loved abstract art but had no idea how to actually paint it. My Pinterest boards were overflowing with saved inspiration, yet I felt stuck—until one late night in April 2020 when I stumbled upon a pin about painting for profit. That discovery led me to my very first art mentor, Amira Rahim. With her guidance, I learned to embrace bold, vibrant colors and fell head-over-heels for abstract painting. She introduced me to my second mentor, Ciara Gilmore, who taught me how to incorporate texture and encouraged me to push my artistic style even further.
Working with both of them in 2020 and 2021 changed everything. I started exploring different ways to apply paint to a canvas, and let me tell you—there are so many! Brushes? Overrated. Ink rollers? Amazing! (I actually learned to use them in a printmaking course in college, but applying acrylic paint with them? Mind-blowing!) Then there’s alcohol ink, acrylic ink, and watery acrylic layers—each creating mesmerizing, unpredictable effects. And don’t even get me started on white spray paint for creating focal points! The element of unpredictability in these techniques is what makes them so thrilling. Lately, I’ve even been experimenting with metallic spray paint in the early layers while the surface is still wet, adding even more depth and texture.
The point is—there are endless ways to get paint onto a canvas, and I’ve made it my mission to use a brush as little as possible. So far, it’s working, and I’m loving the process. And that’s what matters most.
Looking back at my older work, I can see such a shift. My paintings have gone from feeling tight and controlled to loose, peaceful, and full of power. They carry an energy and inspiration that I truly admire.
My journey with art has been anything but linear, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s been a wild, colorful ride, and I can’t wait to see where it takes me next!
