Why I Decided To Become An Artist
Why I Decided To Become An Artist
Why I decided to become an artist…well, full disclosure, I should start by telling you that first sentence is incredibly misleading.
I didn’t actually decide to become an artist.
I think it was hardwired into my DNA and I didn’t have a choice.
The seed of an artist inside of me grew and was then nurtured by an incredible community of creative friends and family + one very special person who is dear to me who gave me the gift of living a life as a full-time artist (you know who you are, 100-100-100%).
Hardwired into my DNA
Was my calling as an artist actually hardwired into my DNA? Yes, I think so. My dad was a (published) songwriter/producer and my mother is a photographer/printmaker/artist.
When I was growing up I didn’t have television to keep me amused and occupied as my mother unplugged it and shoved it into a closet one day so we didn’t spend too much time watching it. It was only pulled out of the closet for that one summer when the Olympics were on…and she let us watch that.
Creative Shenanigans
My childhood was spent mostly outdoors, getting into all sorts of shenanigans, staying out after dark, riding my bike everywhere, walking on the reef, hanging out at the harbor, catching fish in my red net, talking to neighbors, eating starfruit and lychee from Mango Stand (that’s what we called the little shop that sold candy and fruit) and just enjoying growing up in Lahaina. My dad called me “The Mayor of Front Street”.
My mom always had tons of art supplies out in the living room for me to choose from and my dad always encouraged me to write. Our living room was decorated with dad’s gold records and mom’s amazing multiple exposure photographs (one of which hangs in my guest room today).
I would sit on our black and white houndstooth couch, with my little feet dangling off the edge of the couch, there was likely a snack next to me too- fuel for all of the thinking. With a flip top pad of white sketch paper balanced on my lap and a ballpoint pen in hand, I would disappear into my head and draw blades of grass and little mice and make up stories that I illustrated. It would’ve been a peaceful scene to have stumbled on if you walked down our hall into our living room and saw me there. To the left of me through the full wall of sliding glass doors and across our wood deck was the view of the Pacific Ocean at our backyard- idyllic and relaxing.
Expressing Myself Freely
My best way to express myself- is and was- through paint and pen, and that truly started in my childhood living room in Lahaina.
I suppose being so in touch with inspiration and emotion and creative flow since childhood is why I am well in touch with my feelings today. This can be fatiguing or scary for some, but for me it is the only way.
Being Vulnerable Can Be Scary, but Good
The other day I was talking to a friend expressing the depth of certain feelings to them on certain subjects and I explained it away in that- hey, I am an artist, we are emotional, prone to deep thoughts and expressing ourselves -mostly- freely.
However, that coupled with my direct and honest method of communication means I sometimes find myself on the side of sharing candor slightly too early in new friendships and swinging in the proverbial breeze on my own as my feelings aren’t always matched straight away.
Ah, oh well. Better to have expressed appreciation for someone than have them never know. Life is too short…but to be fair, a sobering reality check doesn’t hurt.
I am still learning how to human. I just don’t want hard times or rejection to push me down. I prefer to continue being resilient and keep putting myself out there. For now. I am always open to reevaluate.
With love and aloha,
Mika