An Extroverted Introvert

Do you ever let other people, personality tests, and past experiences define you? Do you ever feel like “I guess that’s just the way I am!”?

I do.

One of the ways I have let external influences define me is in the area of introversion and extroversion. We love to make it black and white- some people are introverts, some are extroverts. Full stop.

And so, I agree each time I’m told I’m an introvert. I believe each time I tell myself that people wear me out. I believe that sore ears in a loud room mean I want to be alone.

But, I think we’re a little bit more complex than that. We aren’t simple machines. We are alive, we are human, we are growing, changing. We are different depending on the context, our mood, our stage of life, and who we’re around. We are dynamic. We are people!

And sometimes I’m introverted.

And sometimes I’m not.

I know this is true because of something 2022 has taught me.

I have taken my art outside this year. I’ve taken it to galleries, and events, and shows. I’ve shared it in emails, and displayed it on social media. I’ve talked about it and celebrated it, and put it in front of eyeballs.

And I’ve loved it.

I’ve loved the people-y part of sharing my art.

I’ve loved each person who has laughed or cried or hugged me because a piece of art made them feel honored and seen.

I’ve loved the stories people have entrusted to me about the precious life I’m coaxing out of the canvas.

I’ve loved the buzz of a full gallery and the hush of art conversations in the corners of the room.

I’ve loved kids who want to paint with me and have no shame in embracing the fact that they are artists!

I’ve loved the generous spirit of other artists in the community who invite me, include me, encourage me.

Thank you art, for teaching me that I am a people-loving introvert who needs all the beautiful connections with other humans that you offer.

Isn't It Just Copying?

Artists are often sensitive, emotional, and able to see things from a different perspective. We can also be a moody bunch prone to soaring snobbery and sinking self-loathing. These two ditches are often best displayed through our disdain for other mediums and genres of art.

As a portrait painter, I most often hear the criticism: “Aren’t you just copying?”

The short answer? ‘Yes.’

I always have.

I copied my parents when I learned to form words. I copied my teachers when I learned reading and writing. I copied my siblings when I learned to tattle. Copying is how I’ve always learned and created.

But, to make the criticism sting less, I would like to suggest that many art forms are ‘elevated copying’. Yes, I’m copying values, forms, and color. But I’m also seeing.

I spend hours looking at my subjects as I paint them. I see. I notice. I’m intrigued. I put that all on canvas. And it does something to the subject, the viewer and me, the painter.

The subject feels seen. Known. Beheld.

The viewer feels empathy. Themselves reflected in the expression and humanity of the subject.

And I, the painter, feel like a mirror. Taking the image of someone and reflecting it back to them with worth, value and dignity.

Yeah, I copy. But my prayer is that I become an artist who copy the steps of the Creator Who sees, shapes, forms, and heaps dignity on all.

The Ugly Stage

People aren’t the only things that go through ‘glow ups’. Paintings also have both ugly stages and magical moments.

For me, the beginning and the end of a painting are the most beautiful.

At the beginning, the clean lines of the sketch and crisp contrast of the paint values sitting next to each other thrill me. I love looking at this stage of a painting and I love sharing it with others. Then, all goes silent for a while.

If you don’t see me sharing a painting for a while, it’s probably because I’m in the ‘messy middle’ (or I’m saving it for a ‘grand reveal’ at an exhibit).

The middle stages of a painting are ugly. Facial features get distorted, colors and values get pushed into the wrong places, hope is lost. This is the stage where I despair and get all kinds of dramatic. I think thoughts like, ‘What the heck am I doing?’, ‘Do I even know how to paint?’, ‘Can I save this piece?’, etc.

Then, things start coming back together, the essence of the person starts to be seen in the tiniest of details. Hope is restored. Glow up happens. The painter/painting relationship is restored.

So, if you ever see a painting where the painter has given her subject a black eye, just wait, the ugly stage doesn’t last forever!

I Was Influenced By: Faye Jurisich

My mom’s best friend from college was an artist.

She didn’t live near us, but when she visited, I was in awe. Although I admired her for all the creative offerings she contributed to the beautification of our home, what really made an impression on my child’s art heart was when she pulled out the crayons.

Wow. While I tried painstakingly to color within the lines of the latest grocery store coloring contest picture, and my sister neatly outlined each graphic before carefully coloring it in, Faye created ART! A purple tree? A green sky? Wait, you don’t have to follow the rules? You can just CREATE? My little mind was blown.

My coloring game changed after that. And my view of creativity blossomed.

Thanks, Faye, for making art and making time for a little girl who really, really loved to color!

Calling Myself 'Artist'

Have you described yourself as ‘artsy’, ‘artistic’, ‘craftsy’? Do these words feel safer than ‘Artist’?

I felt the same way.

Calling myself an artist, despite the fact that I was creating art on a regular basis with the intent to exhibit and eventually sell my art, felt physically painful.

About 5 years into my ‘taking art seriously’ journey, I met a Filipino artist who invited me to exhibit some of my paintings at an upcoming exhibit at the local museum. It was a life-changing moment in a lot of ways, but what I remember most was him taking a look at my painting hanging on the wall and saying, ‘There, now you can go ahead and call yourself an artist’.

So I did.

The truth is, I could’ve called myself an artist long before that point, but I needed someone to encourage, prod, and validate me as an artist. I needed permission and I didn’t yet have the maturity to give it to myself.

I guess what I’m saying is that if you make art on a regular basis, have a designated studio space, sometimes sell your creations, exhibit, take classes/courses/workshops to hone your skill, or a myriad of other art practices, you my friend are an artist. Go ahead and say it out loud. It feels good.

-Belinda