My favorite piece in my portfolio is the one titled "Mi Bodegón," which translates to "My Still Life" in Spanish. Out of all the work I made this year, this piece stands out because it holds the most meaning as it is an attempt to explain the layers that make up who I am even if I don’t really know what that entirely means yet.
I made this piece as part of my AP Art portfolio where I focused on the theme of healing. Each of my previous pieces came easy, each had a clear remedy, easily written explanation, and organized documented steps that made it easy to talk about what I was trying to say. But “Mi Bodegón” was different. It was the only piece that made me feel like I didn’t know how to explain myself. Even though I had taken photos of my process, sketched ideas, and thought about it over and over, when it came time to put it into words, I froze.
The painting and every part of it had flowed out of me so unconsciously that the only thing I was sure about was its key points. That the inspiration came from the necklaces gifted to my sisters and I from my grandparents, with the overall theme being how heirlooms are a way to heal from loss.
While the other paintings in the portfolio all dealt with my culture and personal experiences with herbal and medicinal remedies. For this one I had unintentionally created something that made me reflect on my relationship with my Hispanic roots, my family, and the religion I grew up with. But instead of giving me answers, it raised more questions.
The title took weeks. Originally given the name “Praying to God that You Believe” I reflected on my religious views during ax time where I was thrust into the community due to the loss of my grandfather. My heart necklace, the only one without a Catholic figure, sits in the middle of it all while in the reflection of the gold you see the church where both my grandparents' funerals were held.
Time after time I tried to come up with a title. I tried to give it something poetic, something clever, something meaningful. It wasn’t until my father offered a suggestion that finally the name, “Mi Bodegón” made sense. I don’t answer on how I view the world, of my belief in God, of I’m Hispanic enough, Peruvian enough. I don’t know but it’s my life. And so this painting is a still life. A personal one of a portrait of objects and symbols that mean something only a deep part of my soul can decode. And that’s ok.
I think that’s why it’s my favorite. It’s red, elaborate and raw. It’s honest, even if that honesty is confusing or hard to explain. It made me realize that healing doesn’t always look like a finished story with a happy ending. Sometimes, healing is about sitting in the middle and finding the beauty in it.
Creating “Mi Bodegón” reminded me that art doesn’t have to be loud to be clear. It can whisper. It can be a question. It can just be. And in that still space, it can still speak volumes. That’s why this piece means so much to me. It helped me grow not just as an artist, but as a person trying to understand their place in the world.
Desire in Every Fiber
Art and the individual that creates it have an intrinsic relationship unlike anything else in this universe. An artist may create the artwork with their own hands, any medium they choose, any canvas they may find, and bring to life the images they dream of. But throughout the artistic process and the final work, there is an unmistakable element given to the artist by the artwork itself. It is a level of expression, understanding, and peace (or furthered curiosity) that an artist can only achieve through intentional dedication to creating their passion. Art is truth and if you are honest with the work you make, the truth will reflect back to you.
At the beginning of my transition, I began to form a mindset that my transness and queerness were a burden to my art. I believed that my art should never express queer ideas or themes and that doing so would change others’ views of the value of my art. With this mindset, I grew a dishonest relationship with my art. My real thoughts and feelings were withheld from the canvas. Instead, I depicted ideal images of myself, my life, and my feelings. The dishonesty led to a disconnect within my passion for art. Working so hard to ignore the reality of my queerness stunted my personal growth and self-exploration.
Eventually, as the years went by I began to open up to my transness. Doodles became sketches and became full artworks. Slowly telling a story of my real thoughts and ideas. Under layers of paint, my transness peeked through. It was not until this year, when I created the work “Desire in Every Fiber '', that I really let go of any shame I felt depicting my transness in my art. This drawing illustrates a future version of myself in my transition, with his arms raised and a smile on his face. On the left is a poem I wrote about my passion for art. Surrounding my figure are stars, sky, and rays of light. The work was made with the intention of truly seeing me and my queerness. I promised myself to make the artwork for myself and only myself. Through the process, I was honest with my own feelings and it birthed one of the most euphoric and passionate paintings I have ever created.
Since making this work, I have experienced a new level of self-love both for myself and my art. Though I gave life to the work itself, the piece has given me back a gift bigger than life. It has opened my eyes to how good it can feel to be oneself openly and without shame. No longer do I feel an obligation to make myself small for others, instead, like the figure in my work, I want to stretch my arms wide and take up as much space as possible with my art, my feelings, my thoughts, and my queerness.
My painting Haven is on a 30”x40” canvas with acrylic paint. At the top, there is a blue heron in flight and at the bottom, there is a woman underwater looking back at the viewer surrounded by a swirl of freshwater fish. Haven was inspired by my connection to nature, and more specifically, the pond in my backyard. This is my favorite piece in my portfolio, and although the skill level is outdated, the emotions I was able to capture radiates through me whenever I view the piece. It is more than just acrylic on canvas, but rather a snapshot of my passions and emotions.
I have spent countless days sitting on the banks of a pond in my backyard using the leaves of the trees that lay above me as a shelter from the world. I looked out over the pond’s dark surface dotted with algae and lilies, and imagined myself -- safe and protected under the waters of that murky pool -- in total serenity and out of touch with the fast-paced world above. In that water, it is another realm -- a world of silence twirling in slow motion. A haven from the modern world. This pond, along with the ancient trees leaning over its edges and the wildlife around it, has become a second home to me when my material home offers only torment.
Throughout my childhood, the woods were a constant place of refuge and during my junior year of high school, I picked up the habit once again. I spent almost every day on the banks of that pond or wandering through the woods that border it. It was the first full year of remote learning due to the pandemic which forced me into isolation and solitude -- trapped in an unwelcoming house for weeks on end. The trees hold so much of my history that I felt comforted when I walked underneath them. But immediately when I went back inside, this feeling of peace and clarity vanished as I was confronted with reality. I desperately wanted to bring the emotions of being outdoors inside but this fervor was indescribable. This conflict pushed me to express myself through my art instead, prompting me to create the painting Haven.
I painted my favorite place in the world, so naturally, the representation of that place is my favorite work as well. I was able to bring the calmness that I feel so intensely when I am outside inside so that whenever I need it I can look at the painting and become enveloped with peace. This is what I truly love about this painting.
