Personal Essay

Art to Freedom

I am finally free and bound by nothing. So many colors and so many shapes that make the beauty of this world imprinted into the wide sketching paper. It draws out beauty the eyes of people. Each mark of the HB pencil etched into the paper shows my heart to the world.

When I was young, my mom brought home a book of paintings. It was a seaweed green covered book dull to the eyes, but insides were the paintings of various artists in vibrant and vivid colors. Landscape after landscape and still-life interested me. As a first generation Asian American, my parents wanted me to work on my intellect. They thought mostly about the future of my brothers and me. Being the only daughter in the family, I had to take on the responsibility of learning how to do housekeeping and competing with my brothers, whose grades were better than mine.

My parents’ old-fashioned view was that a girl must know how to clean, cook, and be obedient to her parents. I managed some of those chores to please my parents. Constantly compared to my brothers, I grew up trying to follow their footsteps.

I never thought of art as a skill of academics until my brother told me about it. Not long before the end of my freshmen year, my brother and I were sitting in the living room. Our dad had already commented about both our report cards and told us to do better next time. Dad went to work and my brother and I were looking at each other’s report card. Afterwards my brother said to me after looking at my quarterly grades, “Wendy, why don’t you take Studio because you have been always good at art since third grade? You can learn more ways to improve your drawing skill.” My brother helped me realize my interest in art. Not everything I do needs to be by the books, but also by what I experience and try out.

Stepping into the art room for the first time in high school fascinated me. The room itself was like an enormous painting. The walls were painted, reproducing different artists’ works. My art teacher told us in class that, “If you could draw a circle, triangle, and a square then you can paint.” Art itself shows me not to look at the world though the eyes of others, but to observe it with my own. Art lets me experience different things to test out what is right for my own style and follow my own trend. It gave life to my own imagination and my own true thoughts. For once, I am walking on my two feet knowing that the path I chose is my very own.

The different artists that created the art world inspired me. Leonardo da Vinci inspires me. The Mona Lisa inspires me. It stares at me from every corner of the room. It is so real, yet it is two dimensional. It is as if the real Mona Lisa is watching us through the painting. It makes me want to feel reality coming from a flat surface, popping out as if there is actually life to it. It is alive and moving yet not moving at all.

I was once the same as a painting. I wanted to free myself of my brother’s shadow. I want to become different. Like a painting, I am popping out from the normal view of others as a painting pops out from perspective views of the audience.