How it started.
My art journey began when I graduated high school and was signed up as a Pre-Illustration Major in a university near home. At the time, I was mostly dabbling on ‘being’ an artist. I worked mostly at school— at random tables and desks throughout my high school campus. It was perfectly convenient, and I had access to art supplies that I didn’t necessarily have to store myself. Not that I had any of my own supplies, to begin with. I was also close to most of the art teachers (amongst others) which meant, I could crash and draw in their classrooms if or when necessary.
When not in school, my work ‘table’ was my bed. It wasn’t the best option but was the only viable one. At home, at the time, we didn’t really have a place that was just a desk to do homework. We had maybe one or two desks with a PC setup. I did work a few times on our coffee table though. That was exhausting to the back, but I was 17/18. My youth was on my side!
I suppose, looking back, my home was never a conducive place to study.
The simple evolution of my workspace truly began in 2011, just after my first semester in University. We moved, and I didn’t have to share my room with 2 other people… just one. Lol!
It was a game changer.
I worked on my own bed because I had shared one for 10 years with my sisters and 8 years with a nanny when I was still living in the Philippines. Oh, the memories.
It was still quite the hard knock life for me. Working on the bed just wasn’t productive. It gets dirty really quickly and cleaning up was a real bother. I am an advocate for ‘dedicated spaces’. I believe that a thing should function the way it’s meant to. A bed is not meant for work.
Still, it was all I could work on back then. And I wasn’t dabbling in multiple mediums then. I worked mostly with pens and pencils because those were the mediums I loved using at school. As a Pre-Illustration Major as well, I wasn’t really dabbling seriously into one specific medium. So, the flexibility of working on a coffee table, the floor, or my bed was good enough. And yes, I worked on the floor. It was not butt-friendly, let’s just say.
Then I started to suffer deeply from depression, and I transferred colleges making my art journey a little bit more convoluted.
The two things shouldn’t have correlated, but they did. That’s a whole different issue.
Continuing my art journey, when I changed schools, I also changed majors from Pre-Illustration to Game Design— from a B.A. to a B.S. because this is bull-crap. Lol. Again, this is another can of worms to delve into much later.
The change in majors meant that I needed to work differently. I started using my sister’s desk more often. Easily, I can say that sharing a desk is also not ideal. I still had to make sure to clean up right after a long day of work. I needed to be mindful that I didn’t exactly have ownership of anything in that space.
Eventually, I re-cracked open the drafting table, a year or so later after moving, that I inherited from one of my beloved high school art teachers. I started taking care of where I work. I used to work on that drafting table during my years in University in the stuffy garage of the old house we used to live in. It was not a nice place to work. Aside from the quiet atmosphere, it got hot in there quickly, dusty beyond help, and dark. That garage lacked sufficient lighting. So, bringing the drafting table into the new house meant that I was gaining air and light, but it also meant giving up that beautiful quietness.
You’ll find out later on that my art journey consisted a lot trials and errors.
I had my drafting table placed in the open living area for about 2.5 years before I started to really feel the depression weigh heavily on me.
And I started seeking quiet spaces, my safe spaces. I worked less at home. I sought out libraries. I forced myself to wake up early and leave school late because it was the only place I could retreat to. The downside to working at school was I was always working. I was always in the dark with bright computer screens. There was just never a chance to separate school from my life and it was stressful so then, I sought things far from my school. I would visit my old University and my friends who went there. I took my work with me and surrounded myself with their energy which I couldn’t find for myself.
Eventually as this went on, my eldest sister who I shared a room with finally moved out.
The space we couldn’t amicably share was now empty. I realized then that my entire life for five years had been in a box.
I hadn’t really moved in.
My art journey was still just a journey to somewhere.
My drafting table had been tucked back into the garage due to lack of use. I had my sketchbooks in a moving box. I didn’t have a dresser for my clothes. I was never really living in that space. I believe my sister felt the same.
I quickly made the space my own. I brought my drafting table in. The walls were pasted with my art, things I had never done before. I even crafted myself a tiny bookshelf for the things that I’d begun to accumulate.
It felt like home.
And over the years since dropping out of college in 2015 and focusing more on digital art, this space I call my room has evolved in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined.
In 2019, we had our floor renovated from carpet to hardwood flooring. This is how my art journey cycle repeats itself.
