The start of 'here now'
In fall of 2009, I started a blog called Pearshapes (later, on a whim, I would rename it Lions and Pears). I was 19 years old and had just moved to New York City for art school, after an uninspiring year of college at a state university. Once in New York, I’d quickly found myself pleasantly overwhelmed with inspiration: the energy, the different cultures, my new classmates, the buildings, the history, the food, the conversations. Spurred by some classmates who's personal blogs I enjoyed following, I decided to start my own to catalog new art and artists I came across, ideas, experimentation, school projects, and the wild journey of being a young artist living and learning in New York. I loved it for the small escape it provided when life felt overwhelming.
Eventually, the blog ran its course and now lives as an archive. I started another blog to document life after graduation, called Gold Ribbons, but it was much shorter lived, mostly due the trying-to-scrape-by fuckery that is your early twenties, post-grad, in NYC, as an artist. It, too, now remains as an archive, albeit a small one.
Suffice to stay, I've always been a storyteller in both words and pictures. I love the documentation of things. I love the empathy and connections that true stories foster among people. Social media can participate in that sometimes, but we all know how that comes with its fair share of drawbacks.
In early 2017, I quit all social media except for Instagram. The purge has done positive things for my mental health, not to mention my overall daily outlook. Lately, however, I’ve been itching to relate and connect to the outside world a bit more. I feel overwhelmed in the bubble I’ve built, because it’s too isolated to have perspective.
I need to allow myself a space to share, and room for others to listen and join in.
So, I'm challenging myself to make this a space to document the world as I see it (unapologetically!) , to reflect on creative life and processes, and to foster connections between myself, my work, and the outside world.
Escaping my own walls to come back to the present, here, now.