Sandler 1 Ali Sandler WRT 270 February 29, 2012 Exploring the Self through Inheritance-Final Draft A Picture

Paints a Thousand Words Art-the expression or application of human creative skill and imaginationproducing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power. This is my passion, and it always has been. My memories of drawing hour after hour in my sketchbooks since I was little remains present in my mind of a 21 year old. I am pursuing my Bachelor of Arts majoring in Film and Writing, two very creative arts. These, however, are fairly new art forms that I have become attached two. The oldest form that has helped shape my creativity as a person is painting, as well as drawing or sketching. My mother taught me how to use watercolors. She recently showed me her college portfolio with all of her watercolor paintings and sketches inside. I could picture her back in college sitting with her friends outside painting that image. I could feel the joy of her memories from when she was my age. I wanted to save my memories like that, so I began to paint. I wanted to paint for the memories as well as for self-expression. Just like writing, which my mother is extremely passionate about, it is an art form that expresses the individual of an artist. I am full of emotion, vivid, enthusiastic, and excited. This shines through with my artwork. Nan, my grandma on my moms side, is a very talented artist as well. She taught me how to draw a face, which is what I always seem to sketch when I am doodling in my notebook. I also

Sandler 2 like to draw faces to try and make them close to reality. That is probably one of the best things that I can draw, because I am seeing it everyday in many different shapes and forms. If I really focus on someones face, I see aspects that have never stood out to me before. I am a very observant person, which helps with my drawing skills. Even in cartoons I would outline with my eyes the shape of Homer Simpsons face or Bart and Lisas spiky heads, which is how I can draw from memory. When I was almost as tall as our white picket fence, my mom set an isle up in our front yard for me. I felt like a true artist being outside in nature with my palette, putting colors on paper in my own little world. Flowers blossom into my mind when I think about what I was painting. I think its because my mother always had an immense garden full of sunflowers, roses, lilies, daisies, and many other colorful plants in our front and backyard. I would always study them; their different shapes, colors, lengths, and leaves. They fascinated me the way a tiny seed could grow into a six or seven foot tall sunflower towering over me. They would hang over the fence they grew so big. Butterflies were always flying beside bees and hummingbirds in our garden. My cat nested beneath a forsythia tree and watched as I made my creations in the spring. I have always had a cat growing up, and so have my mother and her brothers in their family. On snowy winter days my previous cat would sit in my windowsill and I would sketch him as he watches out the window. I would study its face to be able to draw its eyes, nose, ears, and whiskers just right. I continue to do this with my current cat sometimes when I am home. In the summer my driveway and sidewalk used to be covered in colorful chalk. I made hopscotch and wrote my name along with shapes and patterns with every color in the box that

Sandler 3 would last on the pavement until the rain, or the hose from watering flowers, washed it away. Strangers would walk by and add to my creations, making them unique and giving me new ideas. I still have a memory of an old man passing by taking the chalk and writing GOOD. He then turned that word into a dogs face. This was so clever to me, and I have used it to show the kids I babysit for. My grandma and mom have these wooden briefcases that are rugged and worn in from all of its use. I loved the feeling of carrying it around with me to my back porch, pretending that I had a box of ancient treasures. I would unclip the metal latches on the side to open it up. Inside I would find colorful charcoal, oil paints, acrylics, paintbrushes, pallets, pencils, and erasers. I have always wanted one of my own. When I bought one recently on Amazon, it was not the same as using theirs. Theirs was vintage; full of love and experience. I felt like I had their talent when I would use their paint box. I may one day have kids who will inherit my box and feel the same way. Right now I have three large empty canvases sitting in my room waiting to be painted. They are asking me to express myself. Ive been writing in my journal mostly as a way to express myself recently, but painting is something that I dont have to think while doing. I just create. I have several tubes of acrylic paint and many new paintbrushes that I am dying to use. It is too cold out to paint outside right now, so I will have to wait until spring to go out to the quad or on the beach to paint. My room is covered wall to wall with artwork done by either friends or myself. It gives my room personality; culture. My three favorite pieces are hanging in a row on the side of my wall. The first two are records that I painted at my friends house. The top one has a yellow rim

Sandler 4 with red tribal like patterns going around the outside. The inner color is a light blue with green designs following the pattern before. The inside is a violet with white dots and black arrows pointing to the outside. This painting happened with no planning, and I think it turned out pretty well. The next one is more of an experimental painting. It has colors of violet, purple, teal, turquoise, blue, green, orange, yellow, red, and white. They are all splattered and dripping down the record. I left half of the original print on the record showing. It reads The Truth Records. This is probably my most favorite, because of its craziness and uniqueness. It has my personality written all over it. There were no brushstrokes in this painting. They were all dabs, taps of the paintbrush, and movement of the record to let the paint drip down. The final one is a Frisbee that I did here at the URI carnival during my freshman year. There was a spin art booth, where the Frisbee sits on a needle and spins in a circle as I dripped different colors of paint on top of it. The outside is blue, going in with red, orange, teal, green, more orange, and yellow. It has chipped off a bit because of the moving in and out of dorms. I have a portfolio of my own from high school with all my artwork from drawing class in it. I wish that I saved my artwork from when I was a child, so I can see what I used to draw and how I have grown as an artist. After school I would go to my friends houses and we would light candles and paint on shoeboxes or paper. I never really had a set plan of what I wanted to paint; I just did it. These are fond memories of listening to music and conversing with my girls while creating art that I will keep forever. I definitely have a huge appreciation for art, which I believe that I inherited from my mother and grandmother. I will continue to make art for as long as I live, and seek out other artists and their work. I hope to pass the tradition along to my children, teaching them different brush strokes and designs as my mother and grandma did. I will always provide supplies for my

Sandler 5 kids so that whenever they are bored, they can paint or draw instead of watching television. I think that making artwork is relaxing, inspiring, and one of my favorite things to do in the world. There is always something exciting about what will be the final product. I think I am going to start on my canvases soon, and add a few things each day until the end of the year. Being creative in art has definitely shaped who I am. It makes me see the finer things in life and appreciate what is beautiful. I envy others who have such great talent as an artist, and strive to get better at it each day. The only way to really get better is to keep making art, and that is just what I will have to do. I see life differently as an artist. I study everything so closely; the way it is shaped, the colors in it, the patters, the designs, and the time that must have gone into it. I feel as though I can connect with those who enjoy making art. I do believe that there are artsy types of people, and I tend to surround myself with them. Its art for arts sake.