I grew up living with a sizzling curiosity for the twists of life since I was a young girl, always asking exotic questions that didn’t always have clear and distinct answers. I used to run around with many intense thoughts that would eventually make their way down to my array of bright, striking drawings in my sketchbook. I would use my sketchbook to let out a vision of how I have always seen the big world we live in and call home. My parents always embraced my unique qualities and special interests with open arms. 

My father, who also has a strong passion for art, set up a painting area in my plant-infested backyard for us to collage some old canvases. Water, paint brushes, and paints lined the ground alongside a big blue tarp. We first cut out fish shapes using thin coffee filters and watercolored them while using different techniques to paint the canvases. We glued the fish down with sticky clear glue, and just before we were done, we threw more exquisite paint at our masterpiece. It turned out pretty good for a 4-year-old. My mother has also always believed in spirituality, with the idea that everything has a reason, purpose, and place. Since then, that idea has stuck with me in the back of my mind as I grew. 

I sort of see life as a collage of millions of unique parts of a big canvas that hasn’t fully been filled yet. That’s how I use my brain to my fullest abilities when creating. I trace the paper full of my racing thoughts. The more to add, the more beautiful. I like to incorporate my art with as many details as possible for this very reason. 

Thousands of freckles span from my forehead to my neck, dotting my cheeks and nose, and traveling down my shoulders to my feet. I gaze at the stars, feeling as though the sky holds the only perspective that truly sees my life. These unique spots, scattered across my body, connect like the lines my pencil sketches in art class, a canvas of endless possibilities where I layer my favorite designs and colors. I stipple away, placing specks of color and darkness onto the pages. Each microscopic dot is significant to the full picture. As well as creating art, I decorate my appearance with ecstatic, colorful streaks of hair, each a different hue, carefully pinned up with clips, accented by an array of jewelry I’ve gathered over time.

I thoughtfully curate my outfits each day, not driven by vanity, but as an outward expression of my inner world. My clothing serves as a visual representation of my personality. For me, it’s about celebrating the freedom to express myself authentically. I wear many garments that match my mood or inner feelings; using felted hats, warm thrifted sweaters, tall brown leather boots, bright short shirts, and layered printed scarves that wrap around me. My style is a bold declaration of who I am, a confident statement to the world. 

As I walk by, I can still feel the piercing gaze of my peers, their views sometimes clouding my thoughts. I still grapple with the opinions of others regarding my art, my outfits, and my ideas. However, before I embraced my originality, trying to fit in felt like wearing a mask that slowly suffocated my true self. So, whenever the opportunity arises, when the curtain lifts, I assertively step into the spotlight on the stage below. 

Generally people’s opinions are biased to their own beliefs, some more negative or positive than others. Their point of view is irrelevant in the bigger scheme of things. The only perspective showing the full story is right above me. 

This realm of unknown possibilities, just beyond my grasp, watches over me. I pour my heart into my passion, exploring new collage techniques while figuring out how to infuse the swirls of emotion I feel within each piece, critiquing strategy and performance. While the moon and sky seem to follow my every move. I create art both small and grand, using monotone and chromatic colors, adding distinctive stickers and shading. With each design, I offer a part of myself. The big dome above me is still observing.

I feel a deep sense of connection when I create, both to my immediate surroundings and the wider world. My freckles capture stories from adventures. They feel familiar, each holding countless memories. They are important to my colorful identity. They’ve been with me since early childhood, slowly fading out over time but still prominent as they journey with me to different chapters of my life. Like a book, the story continues as I ponder who narrates the tale.

My freckles aren’t just random specks, they’re celestial maps etched into my soul. My art and style are the keys to unlocking this cosmic code. My hands and mind become instruments of the universe, shaping and molding my reality with every line or idea. It’s a grand tapestry of my existence, everything interwoven. My freckles connect to my story like constellations, all on the map of my body and being. They are all threads in my own personal cosmic cloth, building who I truly am as a person. 

With each piece I critique and form, I pour my heart into the reason behind the art. One of my favorite pieces consists of a girl with bright pink swirls of pigmented hair. She looks relaxed, as if she is drifting on a sea of possibilities. Made with thick acrylics to portray the feeling of music and the vibrancy of melodies. Another, made to look as though my brain is splitting in half. Color and images flow from my brain creating a collage of all I love.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Now I see that the true person portraying my tale is me. We are more connected to the universe than we realize, our roles playing big parts in others’ stories as well. And as I look at the person in the mirror, I see not just a reflection but how I am linked to the celestial body sitting right above me. 

The interconnectedness of self, expression, and the universe is very important to me. Embracing individuality, finding personal meaning through creativity, and recognizing the deep connection between one’s identity and the world around them can be very fulfilling, and I feel that it is the meaning of life. Each freckle or star, and every stroke or dot, is a galaxy. The art I create is not just mine, it’s a shared experience, a symphony of existence, and a testament to our interconnectedness. I now realize that I am both the author and the universe itself.