Grade: 12

Materials: Digital
Description: The catalyst for this piece was my five-year-old brother’s doodle of the tulips that dotted the outside scenery at the time. In part, this piece exists to showcase the differences between us with such a large age gap. At times, it makes me become more of a guardian than a playmate and it’s something that I secretly resent. However, it also exists to show that he guides the path for me in unexpected ways, like what it means to be carefree and curious. His mark-making inspired the skeleton for mine, yet what draws him to crayons is that his sister likes them. Perhaps it’s what keeps us tethered despite the generational difference, the space to learn from each other and a love for tulips.

Artist Statement: In the grand scheme of things, I am another teen living in the Chicago area and another person adding to the melting pot Chicagoans are known for. The ingredients consist of things I knew from the start, like being a low-income, first-gen Polish kid, and aspects that I had to discover about myself along the way, like my sexuality and neurodivergent brain mechanics. Subconsciously, I explored how this impacts my life through my artwork, ranging from mundane daily exchanges to bigger questions that plagued me. I’ve processed information this way since I was three, my little hands dotting shakey spiral snails (or ślimaki, as my mom called them) and stick-figure family members on printer paper pages. The suffix “Artist” has followed my name since entering the social sphere and my image is incomplete without it.

Others describe my creation process as “mathematical” because of the methodical steps I take to reach the final piece, which is ironic considering I can’t do arithmetic. Post-it notes and spiral-bound sketchbooks became my trusted accomplices on the journey. Once I find an inquiry to explore, either at life itself or something I’d experienced, it becomes a pattern of revisions. I like being thorough; I play with the colors, compositions, and hide symbols within the piece for people to discover. After that, it’s a matter of stitching. I carefully weave my collection of trials together into the final piece. I enjoy this lengthy process because it lets me be reflective and allows for the piece to change. The new perspective I gain from waking up that day could be that finishing sparkle I was looking for.

It’s hard to narrow specific inspirations down because they come from so many places. I’ll draw inspiration from anything I hold an affinity for; my mother admiring the sunrise with coffee, childlike wonder, trees, stained glass, walking down a chilly street with arms linked in a lovers’, exchange of a hair tie, my father’s hands calloused from work because he loves me, wind rushing in your hair, the way nostalgia alters a memory, a piece in a museum with horror vacui or the simplest piece of graffiti, a pretty pebble. I could go on for ages… but if I was forced to generalize it, it’s the mind of people; how we behave, appreciate, experience, persevere, and crumble.

For that reason, I love utilizing a bit of every medium to showcase the duet (process and inspiration) because a bit of every medium has a different impact on the piece. They possess their own unique strength, like humans do, which forces me to question what qualities I want to jump off the canvas at first glance. A digital photograph is more tangible while paint is messy yet explorative– and so far has taught me the most about how I create. Pencils, colored and graphite, are like the urban planners setting the stage and keeping the other materials on track. Everything I haven’t tried yet is a bet with my mind’s limits.

The goal of a finished piece, once each component is given its chance to shine, is for someone’s eyes to linger for a little longer than they expected. The wonder and confusion is a compliment because as you grow up, you don’t have time to imagine anymore. However, I dare you, onlooker, to dream.

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