I received my Associates Degree of Fine Arts from Central New Mexico Community College in 2014.
I lived in Japan for 6 years as an English teacher where I explored my creative voice and developed into the person I am now.
The Owls’ Perch was a high-class bar and lounge. It was situated in the city heights, an affluent district that big businesses and the most popular establishments called home. The Owls’ Perch grandfathered all of these. Having stood through wars, economic depressions, political turmoil, and changing times, it was like a fulcrum that surrounding society pivoted itself with. It was engraved in the city as a symbol of status and prosperity. Reservations were always booked to capacity as people from all over came to reflect the status and glamour that emanate from it.
“IT’S AN ARM BAR!!” The commentator screamed as all the nerves in Katie’s arm lit up like a firework. A roaring cacophony rose from the thousands of people packed around the octagon and a sickening sense of hopelessness filled her chest. The pain was so intense and focused that her eyes started to blur out, but she wouldn’t tap out. If there was ever a fight that she wouldn’t tap out of it was this one. Her legs writhed and she cried out. Gathering the reserves of her strength, Katie pulled hard in a last, jerk effort to break free from the iron grasp of her opponent. A move she instantly regretted as she heard, seemingly louder than the cheering and yelling of the crowd, a loud crack in her arm and it was over. The fading sound of the match being declared over, filled her ears as she blacked out.
There is a place that makes me feel happy, comfortable, at home, and loved. That place is roughly three square inches wide- the back edge of a trailer vanity top. There isn’t anything special about those square inches. It’s just a basic, plastic white top where I’ve placed two bottles of face wash and lotion. What makes me love those inches of space so much is who gave them to me. Let me tell you the story of how I found my second home and my wonderful boyfriend, Ryley.
Where am I? The heart quickens, Sober My head hurts… The world spins Sober Is that mine? Fingers twitch Sober
The occupation of Artist seems like a very individualistic job requiring someone to do all of their production work solo. However, there will always be times in an artist’s life when a project or deadline will come up and they have to ask for help. Whether hiring assistants or barking up the family tree, there are people who can be available to assist in artistic endeavors despite the fact that they aren’t necessarily the artist who conceived the project. Utilizing these people to lighten the load is an act called, delegation. In the creative field, many artists find it difficult to delegate because they have a very distinct image in their minds of what they want to create. I too had a hard time owning up to the times that I needed help and would often try to handle much more than I was capable of, causing stress and anxiety. Thanks to the experiences at my job working at a megachurch, I was able to overcome that self-consciousness and learned to more easily and effectively delegate my work.
Dear Sara, I’m glad that I can head this letter with that term of endearment. In the years before I didn’t consider you, “dear”. In fact, my self-esteem was so low it had me wishing you were dead sometimes. We made it to Japan and we were living the dream but it wasn’t in a way that you or I could feel good about. Actually, it turned out to be more of a nightmare, wouldn’t you say? We hated our job and just struggled to get up every morning. Do you remember that? Well, 2020 was a step up in the start, since we got out of that situation. I bet you never imagined that we would be back in the states in just a few months after that, and in the middle of a pandemic no less! Well, I’m here now, and things aren’t as dismal as they could be. This new year of 2021 is starting off full of hope and potential, but we still never know what will happen. Keep these aspirations in mind and I think it will be easier to keep moving forward and to keep loving yourself, no matter what happens. That is the most important thing after all.
I would like to share an art project that I did over the summer of 2018. It is a paint by numbers and the subject of it is a landscape. Both these aspects of the painting add to what the project is actually about. The concept was a project just for myself. I decided to go around and pick up trash in my neighborhood. I would collect bags of trash. Normally they were ten-liter bags, but sometimes I would fill up twenty-five or forty-liter bags too, depending on if I was doing it with my friends or collecting in an area that had a lot of trash. For every bag that I filled, I would color one number in the painting. And so, each color in the painting represents a bag of trash collected and the world becoming one step closer to the beautiful landscape depicted in the painting. That was the premise of the piece.
God, religion, faith, tradition, these are some things that everyone is brought up with. They are that aspect of a person’s heritage that defines their beliefs and actions. It is perfectly normal and unquestionable if one adheres to a God of peace and good instruction, however, what if the God one worships is that of something less spiritual? In, “A Father” by Bharati Mukherjee there are two such things that Mr. Bhowmick institutes in his life which also serve as major themes in the story. These themes are wrath and dissatisfaction.