My parents share a love for automobiles, but other than that, they are “polar opposites.” My mother is an English and Spanish teacher who loves antiques and anything art related while my father doesn’t understand art and spends most of his time delivering packages, dirt biking, or fixing something at home. Instead of picking sides, I have different passions from both parents. I am a collector, artist, athlete, and nerd. All my time in high school was spent traveling back and forth from sport practices 6 days a week or venturing into the woods and other places taking pictures of things which people often overlook. To keep myself happy, I keep both types of my passions fueled, quite literally. I need the adrenaline rush from my father by participating in sports and driving fueled vehicles as well as the love for art, aesthetic, and history inherent from my mother. I’m a mutt.
As far back as I can remember I’ve been drawing or building something. I started off drawing trains, then moved onto boats, then cars and planes and finally ended with architecture. I remember sitting in my garage for hours, cutting wood and attaching it every which way. I always knew that I wanted to pursue something in the fine arts field but never knew what. It wasn’t until the age of 11 when I was gluing together crudely cut pieces of wood that my grandmother told me I could get paid for being an architect. I guess that stuck because I am now studying architecture at Syracuse University.
Artists usually have an idea or point they are trying to convey when creating art. Sometimes, the artist leaves that meaning up to the observer. If we did not have the opportunity to write about art, we would be limited to only hearing what the artist thinks about his work. Instead of hearing numerous ideas and interpreted meanings from others, we would only hear one. Writing gives us freedom to express the feelings caused by art.