Personal Narrative: The Art Of Watercolor

As a young child, I often transformed my grandma's dwelling into my own personal canvas. Fueled by morning cartoons, I would concoct detailed illustrations of the oddities in my imagination and intricate pictures of my family and surrounding. It was evident I had been blessed. I was never discouraged from my routine doodling either, just encouraged to channel that creativity on to anything but our walls. When I started public schooling some years later I was introduced to the scope of what art really was. Painting, drawing, photography-It was a world unknown to me then. The way we experimented with every medium early on was perfect for my inquisitive nature. For years I invested in what I now consider to be my craft, with the guidance of numerous

My gallery will feature portraitures throughout history. Portraits have been around since the beginning of art. History affects every aspect of our lives including art; artist changed the style of portraitures depending on what was going on in the world at that time. At first portraits were only painted of the wealthy or someone who was deemed important. In these times, it was usually kings, queens, or religious figures that they believed were worth painting. The first picture I choose to feature in my gallery is a piece titles An Allegory of the Tudor Succession: The Family of Henry VIII. The artist of this painting is unknown but is believed that is was created around ca. 1590. This painting is an oil on panel that pictures Henry VIII sitting on his throne with his family surrounding him. This is a perfect example of what a family portrait would have looked like many years ago. Whoever the artist was created an exquisite painting capturing every detail of the subjects clothing, the tapestry hanging behind the king, the rug, and the outline of the city featured in the background. The painting has a lot of maroon and gold colors throughout that give it a very rich look. I think this picture fits into my gallery because it shows just what painters were asked to do in this period which was focus their talents on capturing the important people in history; in this case, it was Henry VIII and his family.

Invalid, different, clingy, a disappointment, and a burden; all words I had used to describe Doodle. He was just about the craziest brother a boy ever had. He was born when I was only six years old, and I had thought of him as a disappointment. Everybody, except my Aunt Nicey, had thought that he was going to die. Nobody had faith in his survival. As a baby, he would just lie on the rubber sheet in the center of his bed, and he was never “all there.” Although many doubted his survival, he lived. As time went by, he would grow, gain intelligence, and conquer obstacles. He finally began to move once he was two, and then eventually crawling, even if he did crawl backwards like the Doodlebug he was.

On my twenty-forth birthday, the seventh of May, my mother, the eminent, Whitney West Scooter, almost had a major myocardial infarction. After, I told her that her aspiring Michelangelo had withdrawn, that very day, from her alma mater the illustrious J. C. West Academy of Fine Arts. The only reason I attend the Academy, in the first place was to appease my mother, who believed every artist should hold an art degree. I spend the entire day with my mother and throughout breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I tried to penetrate her armor of resistance so she might understand my reason for leaving the Academy at the conclusion of my junior year. As I spoke, her facial expression took on the characteristics of a rabid dog about to pounce. And I swear

How do I expect my education at The Art Institute to help me attain my goals? My education at The Art Institute can help me attain my goals of entering the music industry and impacting society through production. As a musician I feel a high love for music. Music without a certification will not pervade me as an education with certification would.

As I am riding in my husbands 2008 chevy cobalt I realize, this is exactly how I envisioned the perfect day. A soft gentle breeze wafting the sweet scent of jasmine over me, the sun radiating against my skin. The sky is clear as cleaned crystal and bubblegum blue. I settle back on the warm leather seat of the car and embrace the feeling. I am totally immersed.

For as long as I can remember I have always had the drive and passion to create works of art in many ways, shapes and forms. My creativity and integrity that I share with art is on many levels ranging from 3D work, video game design, physical pieces of artwork as well as digital. I believe that there are very few schools that would not only help challenge my abilities but be able to utilize them in many ways I would've never imagined.

My head slowly angled down at the murky brown water reflecting the bright sun as It flowed downstream. “Come on you pussy”, I heard from below. From then on, and for these three words, my fate would be decided, On that day about four years ago, i would know what fear feels like, and how confidence can change your life.

After doing my Exploration of Aesthetics Paper last week, I decide to take it a step further. In my exploring the night sounds, it was hard to focus because of the loud sounds of the cicadas. I really didn’t know much about the insects except they come every 17 years and are really loud and everyone I know didn’t like them, so I didn’t because I don’t like bugs. However, a friend of mine posted a video and I watched it on cicadas. It changed my whole view on how I look at the insects at this point. They are beautiful creature and tell a story just like humans. We all have purpose in life and so does the cicadas. They live underground for 17 years. On a warm night they emerge and surface the land. They connect with each other, just like little children wanting to play with their friends after not seeing them for a long time. Then they transform to begin their final life on earth. The process is like giving birth as a human or letting out the lost soul and finding god for the first time. They become adults and search for their mates when shell hardens. Synchronized choir, we all call noise, is their mating call. They are finding love for the first time. They come in all colors, it’s sad watching the video

My greatest skill is drawing. I’ve developed this skill by drawing when I have time and look some drawings from the internet to get inspired. I’ve demonstrated this skill by showing it to my family or posting it on the internet. I’ve always liked drawing since I was a kid because I always imagine things and I want to remember it. I used to draw Spongebob’s snail, Gary, a lot because I’ve seen a tutorial on how to draw Gary. And it inspired me, so I did it, and the outcome didn’t turn what I expect it to be. So, I tried it over and over again until I perfected it. Then, I tried drawing something else like cartoon characters, a person, etc. Until I get a hang of it, but I can’t do it without an image to copy from. As the time goes by, I am now

Hidden under the mass of the dark green foliage was the opening to a small sandy path, scuffed by the shoes and sandals that have pounded over it for the past few years. Teenagers of all ages would gather along the weathered path, adventuring through the undergrowth by passing through the woody terrain. The serenade of birds, along with the crackling of dried leaves and broken branches, was drowned out by the excited clamor of teenagers passing by. Although the well worn path was covered by huge oak trees that towered like skyscrapers, reaching up into the clear blue skies scattered with wisps of clouds, hints of sunlight broke free from the thick pile of leaves, illuminating the end of the pathway. At the end of the path lay a rocky wall,

I scanned the piece of art looking for mistakes. So far so good, I thought to myself. I have an idea. I will add famous painters into the painting like Leonardo Da Vinci, Botticelli, or even Michelangelo. The thought forced my hand to dance across the canvas creating the characters from my mind. I dipped my paint-splattered brush into the thick pigments: orange, grey, black, yellow, blue, and green. The orange would create skins color mixed with other colors and pigments. Black and yellow would create hair colors. Blue and green would create eye

This was my first school year in an actual art class. Before this it was just the average art project here and there in middle school. In this class we started with the very simple and ended with the very hard for me at least. The majority of art I made this year was with a pencil I think. I feel good with the art I ended up making.

It was around 6 PM and the lake had a blissful aura to it. The sky had begun to redden as the sun was setting, casting a bright orange color over the lake water. There was a boy named Tommy sitting on top of a rock nearest the water reading a book. He had short black hair that was choppy from the front. Skin like porcelain, mono-lid eyes, and full lips, the boy had a soft look going on. With a frown and furrowed eyebrows, the boy was frustrated. He had been sitting on that rock for hours trying to read his book out loud without stuttering. He told himself that he would keep practicing until he was able to talk like the other kids. Two more hours had passed and Tommy was still perched on top of the rock. it was getting dark and that was Tommy's

I met Josh on my first day of high school. I walked into my Intro to Graphic Design class and noticed a boy smiling at a nearby table. I thought he looked cute, so I sat with him. I don’t remember much more of that day, but I do remember him leaving an impression on me. Josh and I stayed friends for about a year and, even though we didn’t date, he seemed different from the other guys I had known. Josh had always been a great friend to those around him and never got caught up in the drama around him. We finally started the following summer and the rest was history!