I remember this was my first assignment in a painting class at Broward Community College. It was there that I met one of my favotite teachers, Lamonte Anderson. He was a kind and talented teacher, loved to tell stories, especially of his travels painting around the world. His home, which he opened once a year for student parties, was colorful and full of art. He had a large and wonderful collection of wind chimes from around the world on his patio. Over the next few years, he was instrumental to my artistic growth by building up my confidence and delivering thoughtful critiques. He entered me in juried exhibitions and wow, I was accepted in a few and even won first place in one. We bonded in a special mentor friendship. He gifted me his decades old painting glass that he (and then I) used as a palette. I cherished it until it broke.
I took his painting 101 class and on the very first day, after a basic introduction to the technical use of acrylics, he said "well you all have had drawing 1 and 2. I believe the best way to learn is to do. So, your first assignment is a self portrait. Get to it. " Done. Everyone was freaking out and carrying on. "I can't draw faces!" "Can't we start with fruit?" But I was excited. Eager.
As it would turn out, I have a penchant for self portraits. So many artists are drawn to them. They are such powerful vehicles for self reflection and expression. So I created this Self Portrait 1 (acrylic 16 X 20). As I have referenced before, around 2009, I went though a profound lost period where I abandoned all painting until a re-blossoming of my creativity last year.
So finding this first painting I ever did was poignant and nostalgic. After my initial excitement, my inner critic kicked in. I see so many technical drawing and painting errors. I need to silence them to appreciate the positives. For it is a powerful piece to me. I softly smiled at seeing my love of color and expressive brushwork present from the start. I reminisced about my period when Zen Buddhism was important to me: the meditation pose and Quan Yin statue in top right corner.
But what gave me a gut punch was my clear depiction of my wounded self on canvas. No subtlety about it. I painted a large gash over my heart. And if that was not not clear enough, I painted something like smoke or psychic energy emanating from it. I was stunned. I had forgotten.
Immediately, I was flooded with compassion for my formerly wounded self of that time. I have worked hard in mental health therapy these past decades and I am now a much more whole and authentically joyful self. Yes, I have earlier traumas that I have scars from, but I do not lead with an identity of a wounded soul anymore. So much healing has taken place. In early 2000's, I was so devastated by my father's death. And I was dealing with early traumas and other issues. So when I made a self portrait, of course that wound was clearly given form.
I also ache for my vulnerable self, presenting this piece at my class' critique and being oblivious to how others would react to the gash, lol. Lamonte was a pro, gently referencing it and then using it for a generalized segway into how self portraits are ways artists to express themselves with color and form. They do not have to be literal. But I remember my peers looking puzzled asking if I 'meant' to portray a smoking gash over my heart? It was only then that I became self conscious and then embarrassed. I was so naive to my honesty in art and how it can affect the viewer's reactions and judgements.
Now, fighting my inner critic, I have decided to hang this painting in my home. It is powerful and marks an important time and an artistic beginning for me. I am compassionate and tender towards myself and it reminds me how far I have come. I love it.
I love the colors and the meditative presence in this painting. There is a sense of peace even with the evident wound.
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