Chase Lavigne: A Short Story

As an individual who’s been drawing and painting since before she could even hold a pen – apparently, I used to spill my grandma’s tea and make shapes with it – art has always been my favorite pastime. It’s tranquil and relaxing, and mixing paints is the most satisfying experience. Thus, it’s no wonder that the activity that I’m most invested in is art.

Throughout my early teen years, I was exposed to different mediums of art and discovered that I could express myself through more channels than just paper. Although Barry found comfort in her 11 x 17 newsprint and some paint, I was able to focus my energy on making music and taking photographs. Without my art teachers, I wouldn’t have the expressive outlet I do today. My childhood was not filled with unhappiness as Lynda Barry’s was, but from both backgrounds, we found a warmth from the exposure of art that the educational system gave to us.

The more I observe, the more I understand who I am. I come from a small town in a very cold part of the world, where very few exciting events occur. This means, I have to work extra hard to become an artist. I remember having my neighbor say, “You aren’t an artist until I buy a painting from you,” and she did. I never wanted the money, but I did enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that what I create makes others happy. So many people in town encourage me and support me with my dreams, and all I do in return is help them back in return. When people need a little sunshine on gray, winter days, I am there to lend them my happiness. That is why I am able to succeed. When failure strikes his wrath upon me, I learn from the mistakes rather be held back –being optimistic allows me to grow much quicker than if I were to be

Art helped me learn to express the feelings I couldn’t say and during that time period and I choosing to study it is the greatest decision I have ever made. Art is the reason I live now. It gives me hope, happiness, and an ability to escape. I love how it can change my view and to make me feel things. This year one of my illustrations was hung in the Museum of Contemporary Art: La Jolla, and I could not be prouder.

The pencil liberates my stresses and sorrows. Bare and unimpeded, my mind is able to isolate itself from anything that was happening in my life. At my art table, which is merely an escape from reality, my curiosity is able to wander. Within this room, five blank canvas's look in on me as I become a mold of my imagination. A step inside my world develops into a sea of color and exploration. The vibrancy of the walls resonates throughout. Over the years, my room has served as my oasis. It’s my escape from monotonous and mundane routines. It’s my exploration of another side of me. I observe such works of art almost as much as I create. Taking notice of my classmates’ innovations and inspired by their creativity, my paintbrush begins to alleviate stress. I strive to produce pieces others will appreciate, but often find myself to be the true admirer. My pride, in this world, is driven simply by my own curiosity to express myself. I credit this side of me as the “passion” that supplements my insane drive for success. This passion has sparked critical thinking in me as well as how I see failure. Life is a blank canvas and you can truly draw whatever you want, and if you fail, you start over and don’t make that same mistake again! Hard work takes ideas quite far, but true success is derived from ingenuity and the generation of

I’m sitting at my computer, ignoring pages of economics homework and mugs of cold tea now strewn about my desk, as I search for a direction to go with my life. Such was was my predicament several months ago. It’s undeniable that I’m an artist, hard and true, for a pencil found its way into my hand as a child, and no desire of mine nor of the universe ever tempted it to pry away. Throughout my earliest years and memories, I maneuvered with graphite, paint, and crayon every adventure that I ever dreamt of pursuing. Oh, I was a resilient child, as well, who refused to take part in any art class at school or as an extracurricular for an abundance of years, as I was invariably convinced that I could learn all I wished on my own accord! Consequently,

I have always loved art so much. When I was younger I remember I always drew with my mother on our brown, wooden table surrounded by velvet green couches on our white carpet. It's not the same now that mama and my dad are divorced, but now my mama’s in jail for drunk driving and she was a heavy smoker.. I miss her to the moon and back . It's now January and she’s been in jail for three months now, only twenty-one months more to go.

We continued through the museum by this time we broke off into small groups of our peers and I walked those halls filled with all that great artwork snapping all the photos I could and taking in every piece. It is a beautiful experience to be surrounded by such artwork, brilliance, and mastery of craft. I felt like I travelled through time and countries with each piece was a different feeling but none would compare to the ballerina. Before this I saw artwork and didn’t understand it’s depth and nor did I want to but after I realized the talent, effort, and story behind some of the pieces I realized art is the most intimate storytelling and expression. After this trip I was determined to find my place in artwork and after a few failed attempts with many forms of media I found Graphic Design. It was one of the most challenging but rewarding things I’d ever done in my life. Many times I found myself frustrated with the programs and the even sometimes the outcome but I just worked harder and harder and in the end when I finally did get the results I wanted it was the most accomplished I’d ever

In my life I have failed at many things, but I have always been able to recover. When I was in the sixth grade I had convinced myself that I was the most accomplished artist in my entire school; I thought I could challenge an eighth grader in the school’s bi-annual art competition

It has been my grandmother who always understood that art was a safe place and an outlet for my self-expression. She’s also an artist, which has allowed us to bond and communicate in a way that no one else can fully understand. Her parting advice was always to “reach beyond the art.” Those four simple words have inspired my artistry from creating crazy-glue pasta in pre-school to combining acrylic, oil, and ink as my renderings became more sophisticated.

The translation from the mind’s eye to paper or any other medium, has been my tension relieving entertainment. I grew up experimenting with three-dimensional sketches, until my norm for classroom boredom doodlings with pencils on paper became “masterpieces”.

My mom notices, offering words of comfort. My heart’s voluminous thrumming adopts a steadier beat as my panicked breathing eases. I stumble in silent bewilderment as people of all sorts carry their work down the stairs. Finally arriving on the ground floor, I observe the other portfolios around me, displayed for judges to cast their belittling assessment. The art astounds and inspires me, leaving worry that the work I had not spent as much time on would pale in comparison.

I’m at this great point in my life where there has been a collision between time, desire, and confidence in my art. I have fewer distractions, more tenacity, and more to say. I have more wisdom, and certainly hope that I can continue to say that. I’ve had some recognition in the past couple of years, and more this year. It’s exciting because I feel like my work and persistence are paying off. I want to build on those

I never felt discouraged from drawing; my intense desire to become a great artist overrode any obstacles. My curiosity for understanding the magic of transferring three-dimensional objects onto paper perpetually fueled my artistic expeditions.

I’ve developed lots of habits during my school years at Elko Middle School, good and bad habits. One of the many good habits I developed during my school years is creativity. I’ve attained a love for art, drawing in particular, ever since I was in the 5th grade. Although my love for art didn’t really blossomed until 7th grade, where I took art class for the 2nd semester of the school year. That was due to the fact that my 5th grade “art” were all stick figure drawings. I wasn’t very contented with my own works of art back then, but my 7th grade social studies teacher, Mr. Clark, admired them! I would draw him comedy-action skits after finishing every “quiz-of-the-day”.