All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Visualized Not Remembered
“Wow.”
What a simple remark, yet it’s so flattering to hear.
It’s compliments like these that give my name a ring – that alliteration of ability and aptitude. It’s what keeps me driven. And confident. When others hear my name, they think, artistic. But when I hear my name, I don’t think anything. Instead, I visualize it. That’s who I am: an artist.
To some, art is a painting in the museum getting endless attention. To others, it is a meticulous masterpiece – floral landscapes painted with flawless strokes and perfect precision. But to me, art is the way the busted bindings of books stick out on a library shelf just waiting to be read. It’s the way a snowflake cascades and then lands, slowly melting its one-of-a-kind design into a miniscule pool of water on a toddler’s tongue. I can find the art in anything. I guess that’s just me. An artist.
I’ve been fascinated with art since the moment I held that pink Crayola marker in my hand at four. It’s almost as if art is within me…within my soul. My heart pumps paints of eclectic colors. I walk with bones made of fine ceramics. My eyes see through spheres of radiant, blown glass. My brain holds a canvas of inspiration. I inhale the world, and exhale my perception of it. It’s what I do, as an artist.
This isn’t just a hobby or some leisure pursuit. Art is my passion. And today, my name isn’t more than scattered “wow’s.” But someday, a few “wow’s” will become a few million, echoing in and subsiding on the plain white walls in renowned galleries. People will know me for my work and what I do best. My name will not just be remembered, it will be visualized.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.