There is this pleading voice echoing in my head, an urge and rush of adrenaline. It had been lingering and hovering over me these past few weeks and I want to share.
I have been thinking about my last year in university. The previous years had already been a challenge and the last year had raised its stakes. I was scared for what would happen after, yet confident that my creativity would take me somewhere. I walked with my head held up high, after two years of constructive criticism, and somewhat berating as well, I decided to finish the year without tears. After all, I was showing them who I was as an artist, who I was as a designer. I had my brave boots on and succumbed to their challenges. There was a world that I created where the design strategies were mine and my voice constantly backfired and exploded with reasoning and purpose. My fingers worked with my imagination and I became the character I created, that old Utopian, a wanderer walking down the paths of East London. Needless to say, it ended up as the best digital concept work I have ever done. So now two years have passed, and the folder that holds these designs are constantly viewed. I remember how creatively passionate I was, where sleepless nights were not a chore but a genuine commitment to my craft.
For so long, inspiration has always come from other people, other artists and designers, but today I want to inspire myself. I want to believe that the person who created that world before still exists. I want to remember that I can do this, I would like to be brave again and believe that my art matters.
Because it does. My art matters. It is part of who I am.
