I believe everyone is born an artist, whether they know it or not. As a child, I always knew I loved being visually creative. Whether it was creating a cardboard box car or folded drawing crafts, I was always making something. There was also a more destructive side that my parents probably didn’t appreciate, like the time I decided it would be a great idea to paint a picture on my window.

When I officially started my journey in art school, I didn’t really have much support. I could see through everyone’s fake smiles; they didn’t think I had “talent.” Of course, I know they wanted what was best for me, which to them meant a typical, boring career. Sometimes, when you really love something, you go through the pain just for the experience, hoping for the best outcome. For example, my father studied English literature at Western and taught as a professor’s assistant. But after he got his master’s, life happened. He had a family to support, and job opportunities were shifting. The positions he wanted were more often given to women. The outcome wasn’t what my dad had expected, but I don’t think he has ever regretted his area of study.

When I began my first year of college in the Fine Art Foundation, it took me years to call myself an artist. That likely came from insecurity, but also, I questioned what makes an artist. There’s always the big question: what is art? But who is a real artist? In history, when the economy was volatile, a lot of famous artists probably never thought that highly of themselves. They were always trying to tell a story, bring up a social issue, or simply express themselves. Compared to the past, many people in our time are pursuing art, whether that be Fine Art, Graphic Design, the Video Game industry, or the Animation Industry. I know the economy is not great in Canada, but for so many people to be able to pursue their dreams, how bad can it be?

After I graduated from Fine Art, I moved closer to my goal. While learning to animate, a friend in the video game industry introduced me to an animation software called Blender when I was in high school. I fell in love with block modeling of all things. I enjoyed all the capabilities the program had, and I just wanted more of it. In the animation program, I felt myself growing as an artist. In Zbrush, the creativity would flow so much I’d skip the preliminary drawings. One of the highlights in my program was learning how to rig characters. When I could finally make my character move, mostly a lot of squats. My inner child came out, overwhelmed with the possibilities. In my second year of the program, I learned how important it is to reference and look at other people’s art. If I only compared my art to my classmates’, I would be stuck in a stagnant tiny bubble.

At the end of the road of my education in art, I don’t regret any of it. It was a bittersweet end. Sometimes it felt like I was grieving all the creative ideas I had for my characters. But, I know I can always come back to them.