For Project 4, I submitted a sketch. That's the point.

The first piece taught me that my expectations of productivity caused my depression slumps. I pressured myself to create outside of class and dedicate hours to creating masterpieces, but fear of failure and high expectations prevented me from trying. The fact that I wasn't able to make the most of the situation caused me to feel guilty and sad, causing me to give up even further. In order to fill that guilt inside, I learned a lot from the comfort of my best friend. I tapped into my old mindset to complete the first painting, and unintentionally, I showcased the effect of those high expectations: the girl looks ashamed, exhausted, and overwhelmed by the pressure of the light.

I learned through the second piece how much I've grown in developing my own voice and thoughts. I took many pictures that weekend! Ones with beautiful colors, sceneries, and architecture. It was everything we classically note as "artistically appealing" and valuable, but I couldn't help but feel emotionless and uninspired when I looked at them. My artistic voice started to emerge when I stopped listening to what the institution told me was beautiful. My choice of picture is messy; it's full of trash and moldy fries, but I feel that it captures a complex mixture of memories. I understand that others may not feel the same way about this picture. The don't even know Katie or what we laughed about. But I didn't care. I submitted the picture for ME, not to satisfy others' expectations

How did I tie these ideas together? I concepted a painting of myself sleeping. More specifically, it was an example of me being "shamelessly unproductive". I felt so sick of making myself feel bad for not doing work 24/7. I want to sleep peacefully without guilt. It was my goal to make a piece so boring and simple that no one would want to look at it. It's my goal to make an expressive piece that communicates, "Hello, I'm Megan, and I don't care if you like my work. If you don't get it, you don't get it. I won't try to explain."
As I started to complete my sketches, I realized something... I was still focused on how others would view me. I meticulously crafted how to portray myself as someone carefree in the minds of my classmates.

I felt confused and hypocritical. I remember asking myself, am I just painting something I wish I was? I'm still concerned about how others view me. I'm still crafting a persona and making things to please others so they can validate my art and make me feel like I succeeded.

I decided to read the recommended text, "Art and Fear," by David Bayles and Ted Orlando and there's one line that hit hard. It read, "Not many people continue making art when - abruptly - their work is no longer seen, no longer commented upon, no longer encouraged. Could you?"

My first instinctual answer was yes, but then I switched to no, and then after much thought, switched back to yes.
I do have passion and love for the craft. However, I keep getting my worth as an artist and individual mixed up and dependent on others' praise and validation. But it doesn't always have to be this way. I turned in my sketch, which meets the project requirements and showcases my idea. However, I want the final painting to be something only I see. I want to know what it feels like to paint something without fear of disappointing others. How can I fail when my goal is to experiment and feel?
Of course, I won't always paint and lock it in a closet to never see the light. I just need to separate myself from the pressure to make a piece that can praised as a masterpiece.

As long as I listen to my voice and create things that fulfill me, I feel like I'm on the right track. If I send you my final painted piece, I would really appreciate technical critique, but I want to challenge myself in class to stand behind my 5-minute sketch. During the critique, I want to confront my fear of disappointing others. Is it going to crush me and make me never want to call myself a painter again? I don't think so. But I need to experience the feared scenario and see what's on the other side. I don't want to hide away in fear and anxiety of a hypothetical situation anymore.