I quit art 6 years ago when I angrily launched my sketchbook across my childhood bedroom out of disgust at my drawings. My throat constricting and voice wobbly, I told my sketchbook that I hated it. I screamed at it until my voice was raspy and my throat was burning. I loathed my drawings and the way they disappointed me every time I finished a page. I reluctantly declared that I was no longer an artist. I was done with art and I was never gonna go back to it. Until I did. Pierre-auguste Renoir, a French artist who led the impressionist movement during the 19th century spent the last 20 years of his life physically struggling with pain due to arthritis. His condition was so severe he needed an assistant to place a brush in his hand and to hold his paint pallet. But he had a desire to create, and his desire was stronger than the pain his ailment threw at him. This desire is something that many if not all artists experience, and that does not exclude myself. Art is creation, and creation is something that I’ve always needed to do. After I had “quit”, I would feel anxious whenever I saw someone else creating, and I felt a tinge of guilt that I had discarded something that I so dearly loved. The truth is I hadn’t felt like an artist, I felt like a phony. Real art was deep and profound and unprecedented. Mine wasn’t any of those things. Having these elaborate art-critical thoughts of what makes art “real” at age twelve wasn't a reflection of some advanced gifted brain, it was caused by the vicious concoction that is puberty, anxiety and social media. These are the three biggest hinderances I have faced while making art. While I've obviously outgrown the puberty aspect and I no longer post my art on social media, I still struggle with anxiety. I now know that I have generalized anxiety, which is something that affects all parts of my life, including my art. I often get worried while creating art, terrified that it's not going to come out the way I have envisioned. An artist's desire to make art is integral to their character, whether younger me wanted to admit it or not. Which is why eventually, I had picked up a pencil again. Now I realize that I didn’t quit, I stopped. It has been a struggle to overcome my fears of art. I relearned how to enjoy art over the past four years, building my skills and portfolio. Creating art is so important to me because it gave be the best life lesson: how to face my fears. It taught me that the desire to create art is more important than the final product, that as long as it's meaningful it's truly worthy. I hope to pursue a career in the arts, whether it be something independent, like freelance work or something more corporate, like industrial design. But what matters most to me is that in one way or another, my art makes some sort of an impact. I'd love if someone out there that is feeling the ways that I felt when I wanted stopped making art to be able to see something I've created and change their mind. I don't want someone to feel as hopeless and unhappy as I did six years ago.

I quit art 6 years ago when I angrily launched my sketchbook across my childhood bedroom out of disgust at my drawings. My throat constricting and voice wobbly, I told my sketchbook that I hated it. I screamed at it until my voice was raspy and my throat was burning. I loathed my drawings and the way they disappointed me every time I finished a page. I reluctantly declared that I was no longer an artist. I was done with art and I was never gonna go back to it. Until I did. Pierre-auguste Renoir, a French artist who led the impressionist movement during the 19th century spent the last 20 years of his life physically struggling with pain due to arthritis. His condition was so severe he needed an assistant to place a brush in his hand and to hold his paint pallet. But he had a desire to create, and his desire was stronger than the pain his ailment threw at him. This desire is something that many if not all artists experience, and that does not exclude myself. Art is creation, and creation is something that I’ve always needed to do. After I had “quit”, I would feel anxious whenever I saw someone else creating, and I felt a tinge of guilt that I had discarded something that I so dearly loved. The truth is I hadn’t felt like an artist, I felt like a phony. Real art was deep and profound and unprecedented. Mine wasn’t any of those things. Having these elaborate art-critical thoughts of what makes art “real” at age twelve wasn't a reflection of some advanced gifted brain, it was caused by the vicious concoction that is puberty, anxiety and social media. These are the three biggest hinderances I have faced while making art. While I've obviously outgrown the puberty aspect and I no longer post my art on social media, I still struggle with anxiety. I now know that I have generalized anxiety, which is something that affects all parts of my life, including my art. I often get worried while creating art, terrified that it's not going to come out the way I have envisioned. An artist's desire to make art is integral to their character, whether younger me wanted to admit it or not. Which is why eventually, I had picked up a pencil again. Now I realize that I didn’t quit, I stopped. It has been a struggle to overcome my fears of art. I relearned how to enjoy art over the past four years, building my skills and portfolio. Creating art is so important to me because it gave be the best life lesson: how to face my fears. It taught me that the desire to create art is more important than the final product, that as long as it's meaningful it's truly worthy. I hope to pursue a career in the arts, whether it be something independent, like freelance work or something more corporate, like industrial design. But what matters most to me is that in one way or another, my art makes some sort of an impact. I'd love if someone out there that is feeling the ways that I felt when I wanted stopped making art to be able to see something I've created and change their mind. I don't want someone to feel as hopeless and unhappy as I did six years ago.