Ancient art forms often depicted events and values of cultures. They mostly served as record-keeping – a simple way of telling the stories of the time. As time passed, artists were not content with just keeping record because we all yearned for a deeper level of connection. Storytellers started to present different perspectives and subjects that encouraged the viewers to engage and connect.
Since I started my art journey quite young, I didn’t understand the power of connection. My art was often a retelling of events rather than seeking connection. My journey from “story-listening” to “storytelling” happened when I was given Michael W. Smith’s music album. The words and music were both powerful. What captured my heart was an instrumental piece entitled “Freedom”. It was inspired when he was living in Franklin, Tenn, where Civil War battles were fought. As the piece progressed, I visualized chains falling off my body and the feeling of freedom enveloped me. Right there and then, I knew I wanted to be a storyteller as a visual artist—sharing my personal narrative in my paintings, seeking a deeper level of connection with the viewers.
Emily Carr was an unusual story teller, she was able to capture people’s mind with both her writings and paintings. The subject matter of her writings came from her surroundings – people she met and animals she kept. They were ordinary subjects but there was so much “life” between the lines. The subject matter of her paintings was also ordinary, but her paintings powerfully pulled me into her forest of trees and skies. Her paintings and stories allowed me to enter into her world and her inner sanctuary.
Her art journey was rugged, full of hurdles and challenges, but it didn’t discourage me. In fact, it gave me strength to face the uncertainties. I too had gone through a prolonged period of inactivity with my brush. When my love of art was rekindled, with fear and trembling hands, I picked up my brush and started to work on my personal narrative.
When I started looking for subject matter to communicate my vision, I realized I was most at peace when I was out in nature. Rocks and water became my favorite subject matter. I always felt anchored when I was painting rocks, and I felt alive when I was painting water. My hope was that the feelings I had about rocks and water would transfer onto the paper and that the viewers would experience the stability of the rocks and the vitality of the water.
Though I truly believe that honing our skills as visual artists are a must, I learned that storytelling is more powerful when the teller is convinced of the message he/she wants to communicate. Speaking from the heart and being willing to be vulnerable can be risky but worth it!
Finding the right title for my paintings is very important to me. Though I am not very good with words, I still try hard to find a precise description for the moment the image was envisioned. The process of conceptualization doesn’t always happen in an orderly fashion.
“Come Away With Me”
This painting (“Come Away With Me”) was created after a time of searching for peace and balance. Finally, I found strength from this place of quietness. The image I painted depicts that time of searching.
“Destination”
“Destination” is tied to arrival, but destination is insignificant if there is no story to tell about the journey. I was curious what stories these boats would tell if they had mouths! A couple months after I finished this painting, my siblings and I were grieving the loss of our mother. My mom had lived a full life. It seemed natural that her destiny was to “rest in peace”. When my niece shared her memories about Grandma and some of the life stories grandma told her, I realized that it was the journey she took that defined my mother. So, the painting was somewhat of a prelude to my mother’s story.
“Morning Treasures”
I grew up in a family of six children and I am the youngest with quite an age gap between my older siblings and me. It seemed like they all grew up together and then left home while I was still quite young. I really didn’t have a lot of memories of my siblings’ growing up years. When some friends gave me a set of old black and white photos from the 50s, I was captivated by a particular photo depicting three boys finding some small treasures. I have three older brothers and I had no idea how they spent their days. This photo allowed me a glimpse of what might have been their activities. In fact, the photos evoked a desire to find out more about my family and heritage. Maybe someday I will attempt to paint a series of paintings about the time of my childhood. I titled the painting “Morning Treasures” to capture the golden moment the boys were having. (Reference photo credit to Mr. Man Luk Chun)
Painting in Jasper
When I began to do plein air again, as much as I love painting outdoors, it was quite overwhelming. To help me focus, I started to keep a visual journal. Sometimes it was a quick sketch to capture the landscape that caught my eye. More importantly, I recorded my feelings and frame of mind at that moment –why my heart resonated so much with my eyes and why the scenery spoke so loudly to me. All those bits and pieces helped me stay focused on the message I wanted to communicate.
In our journey of life, there are many touchstone moments. Those are turning points. Some people use words to remind themselves about the important milestones in their lives. Other people use visual images. Whichever method, I believe we become who we are because of those moments. When we go through struggles and doubts, those images, words or music notes become our anchors. They help us remember and refocus.
Some of the visual entries may seem to be just a record but revisiting them proves otherwise…
My paintings reflect the journey I have been travelling. At the beginning, painting was like therapy, a tool to help make up for lost time. As time passed, they revealed my experiences and the vitality of my spiritual growth. I think I have arrived at a point of embracing the idea that my art journey is not all about how well I can paint but how much I have grown. The final measure is not the approval or praise I receive but how well I have shared the message and celebrated the gift that was given to me.