My Artwork Is a Remnant of the Experience

Every once in a while, I hear about an artist who threw away some of their work when they were younger. It makes me want to dig through trash cans and landfills to find it and give it back to them. No matter what it is that an artist creates, it’s so important to keep everything, even if they just put it in a box and never look at it again. I can’t imagine throwing away my artwork, and I have been keeping all of it since I was a little kid. I have every drawing, sculpture, and painting I have ever made. It’s my history or memories captured in art. It’s evidence of the process I have undergone to get better and of my past. 

I have thousands of pieces of personal artwork in my collection, and each one represents a stepping stone that has led to the artist I am today. I can learn about my medium just by looking at the evolution of my techniques over the years. For that reason, I think that all artists should keep that evidence of progression, whether it’s through hard copies or photographs. Documentation of your work can really be useful in so many ways. 

I would say that now, keeping that record is a very important ritual in my process. It’s second nature at this point. I have alway felt the need to do it, and it continues to be that way. I am so thankful that I have had that instinct from a young age. It has resulted in a huge collection of art that shows my history, and it’s my most precious belonging. It’s who I am today and how I got there.

With fire, I don’t create my work in order to have a picture at the end of the day to put on the wall. I have a different motivation: I create my work because I am in love with the process and with going into the creative zone. That’s where I am able to give that gift of being seen and to lose myself in the process. It’s a deeply personal place, one where my hands work with fire to create the person’s likeness. It’s where I have discovered I have a synergy with fire, so much so that sometimes I can hold conversations with people even as my hands take on a life of their own and paint the picture. It’s an intense experience for both me and the model.

Eventually, of course, that process comes to an end. When I finish the portrait and step outside of the creative world, it’s a bit disorienting for a few moments. So much of me has gone into the portrait that to finish it is a moment I need to reflect on. I stand with the model, and as we look at it together, I can see that the artwork is a remnant of the experience. It is what has been left behind. 

When I look at it, I remember the conversations, people, and everything around that experience. It tells a story for me and for the model. I remember how I laughed with the person while I was painting their eyes. When I look at the hairline, I think about how the model was introspective then and didn’t seem to want to talk. There is a memory behind every line and every angle, and I love to see that history throughout the portrait.

That, then, is why keeping artwork is so, so important. Anything I create is more than a picture. It is ultimately a record of the journey, and I will never want to forget a single moment of it.