Hey Dreamers! I hope all of you are having a wonderful day. Today’s post is a Sketchbook Tour! If you didn’t know this already, art is one of my biggest passions along with writing. I realized that I don’t talk about art a lot on this blog, but it is a huge part of my life. So, I decided to share it with you.
I had been meaning to do a sketchbook tour for a while, but I procrastinated so much that in the meantime, I filled up another sketchbook. So, this post has art from both of them. Fun fact: these were two of my very first sketchbooks that have been completely filled up. As you look through the art, I will be telling you about my journey with art and how it has helped me through the years. My art means a lot to me, so I hope you like it.
My journey with art started when I was about 3-4 years old. My parents would often read picture books to me. I sat next to them, admired the drawings and listened to the story. Back then, I didn’t know how to read, so when my parents didn’t have time to read to me, I only had the pictures to rely on. I absolutely loved looking at all of the pretty pictures of all the different characters and scenes, and that sparked something in me. Sparked an interest, sparked a love, a desire, to create those kinds of pictures.
So, I sat on the floor with a piece of paper and crayons and just drew. It might not have looked like anything, it might not have been good, but it made me happy. The process of picking out colors, making marks on the page and creating something out of nothing was like magic.
After a while, it became a habit. It became something that I did almost every day. I’d lock myself in my room, scatter my crayons on the floor and create for hours. Soon, the people around me started noticing my new found love and I started getting sketchbooks, color pencils, paints and all kinds of art supplies as birthday presents, Christmas gifts and more.
As I was growing up, my love for art only grew. With every drawing that I did, I got better. In school, I would eagerly wait for art class that we had once a week. I shone in art class. My teacher praised me and my friends gasped when I showed them what I had done and that tiny bit of recognition that I got brought me an immense amount of joy.
I remember begging my mom to put me in an art class outside of school, but she refused. It wasn’t that she was unsupportive of my art, she just didn’t like the methods of teaching art that the art teachers in our community used. The teachers would tell the students what to do and the students would have to do it exactly the same way. There was no space for creative freedom, there was no room for imagination. For me, I think that was one of the best decisions, my mom made.
After that, for a long time, I stopped making art. I had discovered writing as a passion, and I started to write more. School was getting stressful too. Everyday, I came home with tons of homework that took me hours. Any bit of free time that I had, went to studying, or writing.
Then, we moved to the United States from India. The United States is where my passion grew the most. I saw art everywhere, in different forms. Music, dance , theatre and more. My new school encouraged imagination and creative thinking and it inspired me. I started making art again, and it felt amazing.
The next year, I went to middle school. I had taken art as an elective and I had an amazing teacher who encouraged me to do my best. Art was the highlight of my day, and I enjoyed it very much. But, when I look back, I notice that most of the art that I made was for school assignments. I had stopped making art for the pleasure of it. I had stopped making art as a hobby. I had stopped making art for myself.
The summer of 2017, we traveled back to India for three weeks. In our old house, I found tons of old sketchbooks, filled with crayon drawings, scribbles and little figments of imagination. Lastly, I found a sketchbook that my dad had bought for me. (1st picture). I felt a new spark surging through my veins when I held that sketchbook.
I took it back to America and started drawing in it. At first, I thought that I was going to draw in it for a while, and then give up. But, I finished it and started a new one. “I’m surely going to quit halfway”, I had thought to myself. But, I finished that one too. My love for art had come back. I improved everyday and now, here I am.
I am who I am today, because of art. Art has helped me through so many hard times. I absolutely love expressing myself with colors and shapes and lines. It’s not just the end result, it’s also the process. When I move my paintbrush across the canvas and make a stroke of color, and as I see stroke after stroke come together and create something beautiful, that’s what makes me happiest. No matter what I go through, I will always be an artist.