I am an artist.

It took a long time to say that (about 40 years) and feel honest and good about it.

I experience joy in making art, and I hope to share that joy with the world.

I have been an artist since I can remember - I spent all possible hours during all levels of school in the art room. I took after-school art classes as a young child. In high school I took math class over the summer (that’s right! SUMMER SCHOOL BY CHOICE!) so I could take more art electives during the year - we had two art teachers at my high school: one for drawing and painting and the other for sculpture - I had no idea how lucky I was! I would take the train into the nearest city on the weekends to take art classes at the colleges and universiities. I would spend hours looking - museums, books, magazines, studios. I went to fine arts school for college. There, I studied all the things - and really fell in love with sculpture and drawing. I graduated well. But I had totally psyched myself out during college- I thought I wasn’t serious enough or that I had nothing valuable to share. I was totally mired in self-centered fear and doubt. I was not an extraordinary student… I didn't want to go to an MFA program.. I didn’t see myself competing for gallery attention. I had no idea how to be a professional artist outside of those narrow paths. I didn’t ever see myself being part of the “serious” art world - honestly, I didn't really understand it and was turned off by how unapproachable it seemed to regular people. And I definitely wasn’t as “good” as some of my peers.

Then… I didn’t touch it for 20 years. A few years after college, I gave up of the “carry my sketchbook literally everywhere” habit, I didn’t tell anybody I was an artist, I packed everything away in the basement. But during all of those long years, every day I felt I was missing a big part of who I was. I knew that when I boxed up all those materials and sketchbooks in the basement, I was boxing up some joy. And when I thought of myself as an artist, I felt like a fraud. In those twenty years, I chased other lifestyles that took my attention for a long time. After some adventures in my 20s, I established a (totally noncreative) corporate career, built a home and a family, and dove deep into spirituality and meditation.

Then two things happened that helped me rediscover the joy:

1. During and after the pandemic, I had the idea to take a few art classes - I took one in papier mache which I found hilarious and childlike and fun, and then a class in encaustic and one in gouache. I remembered loving gouache in school - it was one of the only ways to go white over black without muddying it up. If you don’t know what gouache is (pronounced gwash), it’s an opaque (not see-through) watercolor that is less “fine art” than other painting mediums. As a contrarian, I love that. I love that you can’t mess it up the same way you can with watercolors - it’s so forgiving. And bold. During the gouache class, I was sitting at the table and was completely paralyzed. Everybody else was just doing stuff and I just sat there, staring at the white paper. I just couldn’t figure out how to start - there was just so much pressure put on only by myself. The teacher saw the state of me and said, “You went to art school, didn’t you?” And then she said - “Look, you’re not gonna be rich and famous with your art, so why don’t you just enjoy it. The only difference between me and you is that I’m doing it.” She was a professional artist (meaning, she funded her life by her art) and seemed to be enjoying the hell out of it. She was a loud, bold, fabulous artist who didn’t care about “the rules” (like using black in a painting.) I felt embarrassed but so uplifted - she gave me an “assignment” to get started and after a few quick sketches in gouache I had made that first start - putting marks on paper. When she came around to look at my sketches, she said “you have to make art” - everyone else in the class agreed. It was what my own head was saying to myself for 20 years - “You have to.”

2. At the time I had two toddlers. I really wanted to expose them to creativity as a way of being; we had simple tempera paint sticks and canvases available all the time - we would make paintings almost daily. Then we graduated to watercolor. Then sketchbooks with markers. Then colored pencils. It was amazing to me how the kids would just make marks with total confidence, and be 100% done when they felt like it, and just move on. They loved doing this activity together too, like it was being in a totally different place together. I would make paintings with them and being together in that creative ether was so special. When I was showing them watercolors, I tried really hard not to think - just make shapes and use colors, like the kids were doing. I mimic’d them. I learned from them. I loved the bright colors and funny shapes and patterns. That very first watercolor painting surprised me and was another step into just opening back up to that child-like joy of making art. You can see part of it in the photo below.

Those two experiences - the fabulous gouache teacher, and making art with my kids just sort of unlocked me and I committed to a daily practice at home. I thought: I want to build a body of work. Then we’ll see where it goes. I bought some supplies and set up a table. Over time I took over a guest room to have more natural light and more space. Now my studio contains my meditation chair and my “office” for my corporate career. I can access the art any time I have spare moments during the day, and spend hours each night.

I have redefined for myself what it means to be an artist, let go of old ideas and any pressure, and I’m just doing it. I am an artist. Every day. It is how I most honestly express everything internal externally. And I’m excited to put it out there and hope it finds its people.

If I had to describe my art, I would say - it reflects curiosity about the world - the energy, color, sense of humor and imperfection, connection, and sometimes discomfort that I see and feel daily. I transform organic shapes into conversations - the shapes react and respond to each other and the viewer.

When you view this art, I hope you experience feelings of joy, freedom, honesty and connection.

🙏💕🔥✨

- Emily Joy Archer