The only reason I got into art is because people said I was good at it. I know it hurts but it’s something I can’t b*******, and if there’s one thing you can’t do an art it’s b*******. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t love art. I mean yes of course that if nobody ever told me I was good at it. I would have most definitely never picked it up, or kept working at it. My drive growing up was mostly to try to impress people. What grew as just a small boy looking for acknowledgement of talent. Turned into a love of art. A new realm of loving art itself that was once never even believed possible. All the beauty, horror, and history inside art was absolutely astounding. It opened up doors in my life that I did not know where possible it let me meet people that are astounding, and in my darkest times it was my only constant. The one thing I would keep going back at. Art is a part of me and no matter how much I change, it doesn’t. Because when I draw it seems to give me a feeling of purpose. A reason to challenge myself to push myself the try to do things that I did not think I could do. To go beyond my boundaries and search my deepest feelings and express them. To try to find answers to questions I didn’t even know that I’ve needed asked. Art even sometimes brief makes me feel like I’m not alone makes me feel like there’s a reason to everything. Even though I know that most likely there isn’t it still gives me that feeling and I like that. There’s very few things in life that will give you that feeling. for me there’s only two things flying and drawing. Now that I think about it maybe that’s why my art is so slow. I like to stay in that moment for as long as I can. Art sometimes feel like a momentary separation from it all.
Austen S. Thomas
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