Art Is Good

Artist Statements

Am I an Artist? Why do I make art?
Yes. It took me a long time before I would say that. 20ish years of studying art and artists, viewing thousands and thousands of works, reading countless writings, studying the lives, thought patterns, studio spaces of these humans that have been identified as artists. Still, didn’t really identify myself as one. Then, one day I met someone. They introduced themselves “Hi, my name is —and I am an artist.” They said it so “matter-of-fact-ly,” like they had introduced themselves at any number of Anonymous meetings. I understood. I am an artist. I make art.

I would like to clarify first that “Why do people make art?”, “Why is art important?” and dozens of other similar, relevant questions are not at all what is addressed here. Those answers are different. This is about me, just me.

Am I an artist? Why do I make Art? It is not to challenge the views on what is and isn’t art. It is not to master my craft. It is not to push some revolutionary new ideals or challenge the ones that I deeply believe are wrong. It is not because I want your approval. I do not need to sell it or be famous. I do not need to be understood or seen by the masses. I do not need for anyone to stand and nod at my skills. I am not bored. It is not because I want to look proudly at my own accomplishments or creations. I make art because I must. I make art because I have to. It is like breathing. I have an overwhelming compulsion to create. I make art because I put my plant in the bathtub on Monday to water it and when I see it Tuesday morning it fascinates me. I make art because the colors blending together constructively and intentionally in one space and spiraling unpredictably in another is flight inside my mind. I make art because “that stone overlapped that line at just the right place,” because “those buildings look like chunky shapes,” because “her expression made me feel something new,” because “it was hilarious”, “there was so much of it”, “it looked like tiny angry mountains on the back of a frog,” because “I wonder what would happen if.” Am I shaping the forefront of art like Picasso? No. Am I a master of my craft like Michelangelo? No. Am I taking the world by storm confronting social concerns on urban street corners? No. Does that mean I am not an artist? No. Does that stop me from creating? Does that stop me from breathing?

Hi, my name is Maria and I am an artist.