with pencil graphite on cheap binder paper

By: Keilani J.

Do you ever get that feeling of just wanting to curl up into a ball on top of your bed and stay there until the end of time? To escape your problems and just drift peacefully in a never ending dream without a care in the world? I never had anything to pour these thoughts into until I started doing art.

The feeling of euphoria never lasts long for me, and I can get into these ruts of self-doubt and self-depreciation that in the past I could never get out of no matter how hard I tried. I used to punch my pillow in fits of frustration because I was mad at myself. My poor pillow, who had to endure the sleepless nights of sobbing from me when I missed the deadline for a competition I was so hyped up about, or the exhausted sighs from me doing notes and studies for tests.

I had tried one of my other hobbies to vent: writing. But it was too reminiscent of a school setting, drafting outlines of historical informative essays even if I was writing something completely fictional. Mind numbing black and white words on pages full of bland text just didn’t do my bottled up emotional and mental states justice. I needed something colorful, something that fully represented the rapid rushing river of frustration and weariness locked away inside of me.

When my friend persuaded me into doing art in 5th grade for a game we were playing, it was like a whole new world opened up. Art was so much more colorful, and I had so much more room to let it all out. Whether it was chaotic scribbles with a ballpoint pen quickly filling up a sketchbook page, or doodling with pencil graphite on cheap binder paper from school, I found myself letting loose so much more easily.

I remember coming home from school in a bad mood. Whether it was annoyance at myself or others, I didn’t want my siblings or parents to be caught in the crossfire over my internal war of stress and anger. I just sulked in my room for a bit, until I picked up a pencil and just started aggressively scratching down doodles. Melting amalgamations, eyes boring holes deep into some unfortunate soul, I drew whatever related to my feelings at the time. After a while, my irritation subsided without harm to anyone. Plus, I got a cool piece of artwork as a bonus!

It was so freeing. Whenever I had a bad day, I would take a look at all of my drawings and it always brought a smile to my face. After years of self-improvement, the effect it has on me has only bettered. I could compare my artworks and have at least something to be proud about, to think to myself, “I did this. I did this all by myself.”

I tend to space out and get into the zone of just sketching, coloring or lining whenever I just want to vent. This leads to a hyperfixation on a little part of a sketch, and having my entire focus fixated on this one spot. Personally, putting in the tiny details is the best part of drawing. The miniscule details that can only be picked up after pointing it out or by a handful of people? It means that they want to know more. They’re interested in art that you worked so hard on, that you poured all your feelings into. That intrigue makes me feel incredibly better about me and my skills. It fights back and wins over my self-doubt and hatred.

Art makes me think of myself in a much more positive light. It made me realize that venting comes in all sorts of ways instead of just crying out your problems to a professional (not that it’s not valid). Shoving your emotions and true feelings in a cardboard box and leaving it in the attic wasn’t healthy for me. Art has, in some ways, saved me. Saved me from drowning in my whirlpool of negative, hurtful thoughts.

Art is what makes me happy. And I hope it makes others happy too.

For The Warrior Times, this is Keilani Jasmin.