My art is my line in the dark. Life is dark, sometimes hazy, but never clear or sunny; it's always a question mark. No matter how hazy or how dark you have to keep walking, and if you can not walk you have to crawl, but never stop, because then you will sink. It's so easy to start sinking and vastly harder to get back up, to fight that ground clawing at you and pulling you in. My art makes my walk through life easier; it gives me support, something to hold onto, and I grasp it very tightly. My art motivates me to keep going to see what is at the end of the line, what it will lead me to. There are always other lines you can reach for; however, some glow, although harder, while others are dull and easy. My art is a very luminous line that almost pulls me towards it, or feels as if it calls to me. I wish to study art to further explore that line and see where it will take me. I feel that if I keep going, something great will be waiting. I enjoy creating so much, sometimes holding onto that line is effortless, although other times I grow frantic about what is at the end of the line; I start questioning everything: Can I make it? Is it worth it? Am I being unrealistic? Will I fail? With those questions flowing through my head, it takes great effort to hold onto my art (the line, my line). No matter how hard it is, my love for art never dies. I am always willing to keep going, keep walking. I will never pick another line, and I will never allow the ground to take me. When you follow your passion, it will always lead to great things. Art is my passion, and I will never let go, no matter how much easier another line looks. I dream of what is at the end of that line and what will be next. When I create it is like a weight lifted off of me, and I am always left feeling very happy and fulfilled after a day of creating. When I am not creating it feels as if something is missing. I wish to be an artist and create for as long as I live. I can not imagine a world or a life where I am not creating, where I am not surrounded by art, including others and my own.

When I was younger, every day consisted of art, it was my light until middle school, when it slowly faded. I would still do art in middle school and outside of class, but Art was not my focus anymore; I focused more on simply wanting to fit in. Yes, I did less art in middle school, but never fully neglected it. Then came my 8th-grade year, which was fully online due to COVID, and I got fully back into art, even exploring new mediums. I consider this experience a small bump, which I feel is average in the field of the arts. You will always have your ups and downs. During this bump, I never fully lost that light; it might have dimmed, but it never went out. That light did not go out that time, but when high school came around, it did not gradually fade; it simply disappeared. One second it was there, the next it was gone, and I was left in the dark, and I did not seem to care. I did care that I was in the dark, however, I did not care about what was missing. In 9th grade, I can count on my hands how many things I did outside of art class. When I did those pieces, I did them more out of boredom, not passion. In art class, I did not try. I would throw things together for a grade, which I did even more in my 10th-grade year. I did no art outside of class in my 10th-grade year, art was not on my mind at all. During both of those years in high school, I was in a relationship that I tried to fill that darkness with, but it never felt right; it never genuinely made me happy. My whole life consisted of that relationship; I put it above everything, including myself. I had no activities; all I had was that relationship. The relationship was light, and I held onto it with everything I had because I felt that if I let it go, I would not be able to find another light. I was so scared to be in the dark, I did not want to focus on the fact that the light was not the right light, it was not my light. At the end of my 10th-grade year and the start of summer, that relationship ended. When it ended, I first felt empty, and it was dark except for a very faint light I saw as if waiting for me. I got up and walked to that light sort of frantically. As I approached the light, it was as if inspiration just exploded because it had been suppressed and ignored for so long. It all happened so fast once that light filled me, I could not ignore it. I started oil painting the same day. After not feeling that passion that light for so long, when I found my way back, it felt even brighter, even stronger. When I got back into art, I found a lot of inspiration from other artists that truly opened my eyes. I hope to be that inspiration for others, to show that art isn't just for aesthetics but also self-expression, and that you will always find your true self in art that is from your heart and soul. The work I submitted is from my heart and soul, expressing the true me. I always create what calls to me and what wants to come out but cannot with words. These are the reasons art is my passion.