The gift of creation is often undermined by the nuance that the best gifts are often store-bought and practical. And, while there’s nothing wrong with supplying such things, in my opinion, the worth of a homemade gift is much more valuable than anything with a price tag. As someone who has made their fair share of handmade presents, I can attest that the visual of seeing a friend receive something specially made for them is truly one of the best feelings in the world, and a high I dare to keep chasing. I want to continue sharing my gifts with people through many mediums because joy is meant to be shared, not bought. The first time I had ever taken on a “professional commission” I was around the age of 13. I had scoured the internet far and wide snooping for gracious buyers I hoped my art would charm. Eventually, my luck had struck and I landed a customer. In exchange for $20 I was to draw an OC (Original Character) of theirs: Fullbody, cell shaded, and with a simple background. I was elated. Wasting little time, the adrenaline surging through my body forced my hand upon my stylus to eagerly start the commission. Drowning my digitized-canvas with a sea of references, I gave myself no breaks until I settled on a sketch I was proud of. Once completed, I excitedly sent my commissioner the WIP image, anxiously awaiting their approval of the draft. My worries quickly washed away though, as my client was delighted with the sketch! Confirmation was all I needed for another wave of adrenaline to flood my system, readying me for a secondary 4-hour-drawing-session. I ensured that my lines were crisp, colors saturated, and borders, bolder than my 13-year-old ego. And with that… The masterpiece was complete! I sent back the finished piece with a mix of emotions: Pride, anxiety, hope, unease; All of which compiled together to create the most important thing: Care. I cared so deeply about the drawing because I wanted my customer to be satisfied with their purchase. $20 truthfully, isn't much money, but it was never about the price, it was about the experience. I was meant to source their joy. Upon the reveal of the artwork, my client had filled our chat with jubilant messages and much, much gratitude. It was the perfect gift for them.

"Mauve-Tinted Lenses" “And when the two intertwine they make me.” Kindness is a gift bestowed upon me by my mother. Her warmth is something I’ve known my whole life, something I’ve come to cherish very deeply. She is red in my vision, representing love, benevolence, and compassion. Expression is a gift bestowed upon me by a band director. His vulnerability was striking- never before had I seen a man of his age and profession act so…childish(in a charming way!). He is blue in my vision, representing wonder, sensitivity, and passion. I am incomplete without either half. I wouldn’t dare present myself simply just red, or blue. I need both, as I am both. A mixture of their qualities and devotions that guide me through an ever-changing black-and-white society. I see the world through mauve-tinted lenses and wish others would do the same. But wishing isn’t enough. Wishing doesn’t get things done; Actions do.  The character I’ve painted myself to be is just as complex as the individual “colors” themselves. While I pride myself on holding true to their attributes, I mustn't forget that I am my own unique shade with particular qualities and traits alike. I am creative and clumsy, generous, outspoken, and adaptive. People find the ambiance I exude to be pleasant, which I couldn’t be happier about as all I want to do is make those around me joyful. I share my presence with peers through a multitude of gestures, be it conversation, gift-giving, or even just a simple “Hello!”. What my mauve-tinted lenses can see that most others may not is that: A little can truly go a long way, and my minor acts of service may not be so minute to an individual who really, just needed a hug that day; That is what it is to be Purple.  To my benefactors, Red and Blue, I am determined to pay them back through my success. And, while money is typically the root component surmising around that trope, more than anything else I want them to be proud of who I am, and all that I’ll become. I want them to revere my character- their character, placed in me, watch it grow and blossom into a lavender array that embellishes the world, so that all may view reality through mauve-tinted lenses. I am indebted to my Mother and Band Director. Of reds, blues, purple hues, failure is not part of my palette.