Hear Me Roar

I've been printmaking since I was about 12, and it's always been a very un-serious process to me. Not in a bad way, more so it was the least stressful art medium for me. This silkscreen was the first time I screen-printed, and I made it when I was 17. I like to define it as my first dabbling in the idea of Kitsch, though I suppose I didn't know that at the time.

I had just returned from my year of Covid-era online school, where my teachers uncharacteristically let go of the reins and pushed us to do whatever art we could manage to finish. This freedom made me remember how fun art was, and the idea of childlike wonder took over whatever mature sensibility I had in my art at the time. I did not care for making something I didn't want to make, and I wanted to reconnect with my childish tastes before I entered adulthood for real. 

It led to much looser art than I was used to, and much of my art became infused with my childhood memories. When I was little, I had this poster of a book called "The Story of Little Babaji" that my father used to read to me, and I think I listened to it on cassette too. It was about this little boy who tricked these tigers into not eating him, and eventually they all ran around a tree until they turned into butter. Whenever there is a tiger in my work, it's because of that story- including this piece. 

Whenever I make art, it's essential that I can look back fondly on the process that I went through to create it. Much of the work I made in high school was associated with a lot of stress and unpleasant memories, and I gave up making art for two years after I graduated high school, until I realized I was unable to live without making it full-time. If we as artists become too obsessed with perfection and other people's expectations, we'll eventually betray ourselves and what we are meant to do. It is vital that we prioritize joy in the process, lest we lose our drive.