Painting With Purpose #2: The Artist I Never Wanted To Be
There’s a moment in every creative journey when you start defining your path—not by what you want to be, but by what you absolutely don’t. For me, that moment came during that Giger semester.
After the project ended, I remember doing an Art Walk through the local Gallery District with friends. There was so much talent. So much skill. And so much darkness. Murky palettes, unsettling shapes, surreal landscapes that felt more like hallucinations than dreams.
I thought about my own project that night. I had executed the assignment well. It was polished, original, technically on point. I’d even gotten extra credit. But it didn’t feel like mine. Not in my gut.
That experience marked a turning point. It helped me realize that I didn’t want to be someone who made people feel unsettled just to prove I could. I didn’t want to pull people into anxiety or disorientation or create the ‘sterile’ feeling that was popular at the time just for the sake of being “edgy.”
I get that there’s value in discomfort, and sometimes art needs to provoke. But the question I kept coming back to was: provoke toward what? What’s the direction? What’s the impact?
I didn’t want to tear things down. I wanted to build.
Back then, that meant designing spaces that felt like exhaling. Soft lighting. Natural materials. Texture you wanted to sink into and flow that made sense. I wanted people to walk into my spaces and feel safe. Feel seen. Feel like they could breathe again.
Now, as a fine artist, I bring that same intention into every piece I make. I’m not here to shock or disturb. I’m here to awaken. To remind. To reconnect.
That semester with Giger helped me name something I’d been feeling for a long time but didn’t know how to articulate:
Not all art has to be dark to be powerful.
Some of the strongest, most meaningful art in the world is bright. It heals. It lifts. It invites people in. Monet, Matisse, modern artists like Hockney. They stand the test of time because they invite us into beauty.
That’s the artist I want to be.
Next week, I’ll talk about what I do believe artists are called to be—and how that belief shapes everything I put on canvas.