I knew my experience this past summer was one that will last with me forever. How exactly it would influence me, I had no clue. Alas it’s been half an year since and during that time I went through a physical, mental and emotional burn out, had a major break up with painting and with someone I love and landed in the ER a couple of times from the stress of it all. This all sounds like fresh hell. And it was. But it was also, unfortunately, necessary for me, in order to learn some hard lessons because I apparently learn best by falling on my face over and over again. Fun times! And it all got shaken up from my stay at Chautauqua Institution.

First of all, Chautauqua Institution is an artist residency where about 40 visual artist applicants are accepted into the 8 week program every year. We were able to meet with the faculty/mentors, who are prolific artists in the industry today, and had the chance to learn from and work alongside them. On top of workshops and mentorships, we also had the chance to meet and listen to visiting artist’s lectures, and work in our studio space.

From the very first day, I could tell that everyone at Chautauqua loved art. And when I say love, I mean they appreciated art in such a deep, emotional and genuine way. Art is embedded into their lives as much as it is mine. I went into it wanting to focus on writing so I took Hrag Vartanian’s workshops as he is the cofounder of Hyperallergic magazine, but I ended up gaining so much more. He worked us to practice critical thinking with art, really pushed us to see how anything can be art if you have the right eyes for it, and what the capabilities of an artist can be. Also a big part of not just his class but the entire residency experience was getting to know our fellow artists. Just to learn and see what other people are doing and going through is an invaluable experience. I went through realizations of how much painting became a chore for me in recent years and what regaining a sense of love, curiosity, play, and being okay with bad paintings, looks like. Personally I was able to see how crippling I can get about my art. I’ve learned that I need to relax and stop being so self critical. I say a lot of mean things to myself, so much that it seems normal and not bad. I think isolation can also amplify that. As much as I thought I was okay during the pandemic, I didn’t realize how not okay I was until I was around over 40 other artists who were also on this shared journey but all at different stages of it. The intergenerational aspect of the selection of artists was also very beneficial. To see where the more seasoned artists are at in their life right now, to hear what they have gone through and how they connect it with other budding artists who are just starting down their path. What are we without community? I feel so humbled to have been there. To have the chance to know each of these brilliant, brave, compassionate people, artists, faculty, and even the guy down the road who raises alpacas in his front yard—just everyone.

Two weeks into my stay, I realized I don’t love painting anymore and decided to take a break from the medium. I spent the majority of my time getting to know everyone else as well as doing a lot of reflecting on my work, connecting the dots in my art timeline. Everyone’s struggling and just trying to figure it out. Everyone’s suffering so might as well be nice to each other while we’re all experiencing pain, might as well have pleasure in every way, shape and form. Might as well choose love whenever given the chance. If messy is the norm, might as well see the beauty in it. Something I always knew but was not able to truly embrace before, was the fact that I clearly associate pain with pleasure because my very first love that I entered into this world with, was painful. But also how much of that was already inherent in me? How much of it is DNA? Did this pass down from my mom rather than being a result of what she has done to me? I’m gonna say it’s both. Buddhists believe we are all pearls suspended in muddy water and different levels of mud are on us which differentiates each of our “dirtiness”, but doesn’t that mean our dirtiness, or “not correct self” qualities were also from birth? Which makes the pearl less so the original state that we try to regain and uncover in life, but more so just the shiny side of it. Christians believe we are born with original sin, I think they’re right but maybe the word “sin” is not the best choice. Or maybe many people misunderstand sin. Myself included. I think sin needs to be understood as a universal human condition so it can give us a language for understanding how we are both always complicit and never exclusively responsible for our problems. So the mystery of nature vs. nurture continues, which can only mean that at some point I have to take responsibility for my own emotions. I can only know and love one thing for sure and that’s myself. My experience has led me to not just be able to diffuse my confusion and find joy in painting again, but to understand what this new chapter in my paintings represents. The message I am not just trying to portray but what I embody in my soul. I am painting pain and pleasure and where love ties in with that. Sex is just one part of it. Love takes time. Love changes. Love is healthy when it comes from yourself first. The ultimate level of ecstasy is pure carnal sexuality coupled with love. And you can’t have love without pain. The irony and contradictory nature of it.