To all you artists out there who feel that your work is underappreciated, I have this personal story to share. My journal entry is titled "Something unimaginable has happened".
Well, before I reveal what this "unimaginable something" is, I have a confession to make.
Ever since I began drawing mythical creatures when I was eight, my mom has disapproved of it, saying that the drawings were childish and that I wasn't cut out for art. I didn't let that bother me, though, simply because I enjoyed drawing them. Gradually, my artwork became better and better, and grew from infantile doodles into something that resembled art. Still, my mom frowned upon my artwork, and pointed out the superiority of other people's artwork compared to my incorrigible scratchings. Obviously, I was frustrated, but for some reason, I was undeterred. I still continued to draw in my spare time, looking at other people's drawings to see how they drew certain parts. As school became busier and busier, my mom began to get angry every time she saw me drawing, claiming that it was a waste of time, so I hid my art. I gathered my drawings in a thin, inconspicuous white folder and hid the folder on a bookshelf. I would secretly scan my drawings when my parents weren't home, store them in my computer and upload them to the Internet, so that even if the original drawings were lost, a copy of it would remain somewhere in cyberspace.
Then, one day in the beginning years of high school, my mom found the folder while she was cleaning. She screamed at me to come down from my room, and as I walked down the stairs, she began to tear the contents of the folder apart. I stared wide-eyed in disbelief, paralyzed, as I watched my precious artwork, the product of years of perseverance and hard work, turn into disintegrated scraps of useless paper. I cried until there were no tears left.
That was when I began to destroy my own art. I couldn't stop drawing - it has become a comfort, a passion, and somewhat of an addiction. I scanned all of my drawings, and destroyed the originals immediately in the recycling box, surreptitiously burying them into the piles of other papers in it. It was tearful at first, but I learned not to regret it - after all, they were all saved on the Internet and in a mysterious folder on my computer. My artwork steadily improved as I kept practicing, and soon, I dared to show my art to my parents once more.
It began very modestly. I would doodle, in my improved style, while we ate dessert. While my dad began to appreciate these doodles, my mom was still annoyed and disgusted, claiming that my drawings were not real art. But, as an improvement, she didn't rip them up in a rage, so I was thankful for that. Eventually, my mom gave up trying to stop me from drawing, seeing that it was a lost cause. Starting then, she merely tolerated my drawings, saying things like "it's not bad" and "it's OK, I guess" and nothing more. But I didn't care. Overjoyed by my new freedom, I began keeping my artwork in another folder.
Which leads me to the unimaginable thing that happened today.
I had just finished my "Friends Forever" drawing, arguably my magnum opus of the [insert time period here]. Delighted, I had printed off a copy of it and kept it in a drawer in my room. Today, while my mom was cleaning, she stumbled across it. Without a word, she went downstairs, where I was studying.
"Take a look at this," she said curiously.
"Yeah, what about it? It's another one of my drawings."
She opened her eyes in disbelief. "YOU drew this?"
"Yeah, just leave it wherever and go away, thanks."
"YOU drew this."
"Look, what's your point?"
"Well, I found this in your room and I was about to show you how beautiful it was compared to your doodles. I thought it was someone else's artwork. I can't believe YOU made this, though. I mean, the claws are just UNBELIEVABLE."
Someone should have stopped me from nearly fainting right there and then. That brief conversation took my breath away - it was literally the FIRST time that my mom has praised my artwork. I didn't know what to say in response; I just stood there, with eyes wide open, amazed and incredulous. She walked out of the room, confused. Then, I opened up DeviantART... and started typing this journal entry.
I am SO thankful that my mom finally appreciates my art. It has been ten years.
06 Apr 2012, 3:40 pm
