Bozeman Magazine

“I am an artist.” I remember the first time I said these words out loud, every inch of my skin tingled. I was in fourth grade and my art teacher had written me a note at the end of the school year, telling me how much she was inspired by my style and how I was “an amazing artist.” I remember 10-year-old me staring at those words and feeling breathless and scared. I whispered to myself, “I am an artist.” My soul ignited in that moment. And the flame still burns today.

To me, art is — art is everything. That sounds dramatic, but I’m being honest! Art is what keeps me up at night and it’s what gets me out of bed in the morning. Art holds all of my fondest memories, and hides all of my secrets. Art is how I express myself; it’s playful and silly and sometimes it makes me laugh so hard my sides hurt. Other times, I can hardly see the canvas through my tears. Art is terrifyingly honest and beautiful and it is my oldest, most loving friend. And regardless of how many people see or enjoy my art, I know I’m going to be making art for the rest of my life. Regardless of what puts money into my bank account, I am — and always will be — an artist.