the Awakening

On January 20, 2017, I stepped into the High Museum of Art for the first time, attending Jazz and Art Fridays with a friend. Armed with sketchpads, we ascended to the top floor for a live model session, enveloped by contemporary masterpieces. Nostalgia washed over me, rekindling the childhood joy of creating art on my mother’s kitchen floor. It felt like stepping into a dream.

As I reached the top floor and began sketching, frustration set in as I struggled to find my rhythm. But then, as I gazed at the model, a warm sensation enveloped me, and my entire life flashed before my eyes. Tears flowed uncontrollably as I felt both lost and found.

In a trance-like state, my hand moved involuntarily, sketching jagged lines. I couldn’t stop, nor did I want to. Minutes felt like hours, and by the end of the session, I had filled four pages. Leaving the museum, I felt the stirrings of an artistic awakening.

That night, I painted until the sun came up, something I had never done before. I went to bed and when I woke, the painting was there; I thought I had dreamt the whole experience. Since then, my thirst for creativity has only grown. I taught myself to sew, and now I paint, sketch, or design daily.

My art reflects my spiritual journey, a dance between light and dark, joy and trauma. I don’t boast of art degrees or awards, but I know the language of life. My art invites you to feel its depth, to remember the joy of childhood, and to experience the world I’ve created—welcome to my second childhood.