I get asked all of the time if I have always been creative, I know that my parents can answer that question better than anyone (with some early childhood stories of crayons and paints, clay and other mediums)… stories about me I am sure will never make it to this blog! Ha!
Every now and then my mom locates a box from the confines of my fathers garage; Georges garage… that deep dark abyss of sacred artifacts of random 1968 Popular Mechanics magazines to nicely arranged old Gerber baby jars with sorted nuts and bolts, to treasured Tito Puente albums to a box of old papers of Catholic school artifacts from my elementary school days. Awe, the joy of digging though many artful projects from a 5+ year old, and as of lately I have to admit that the recent found box of nostalgia has brought out some sentimental journeys of my own.
Dozens of childlike drawings to look at, many I believe to be organized in the thought process of Sonyaland and some others are totally random in their composition of utter childlikeness and playfulness. This image is one that I have grown particularly fond of. It has no title, it’s rather abstract but very simple, nicely presented on dusty pink construction paper.
In May of last year I wrote a blog titled “Pupils for Pupils“. It was a focus on earlier sets of documented childhood memories that my mom unloaded on me and my immediate shock and amazement to my meticulous writings and sidebar doodles, along with the hand written notes from the teachers to my parents with disenchantment of such a creative crime. Well, let’s just say that I like to just refer to these as the “Sonya Chronicles”, a nice mix and meld of intelligence and spontaneous creativity.
So whatever it’s worth, it’s pretty evident that there was an artist in me from the get go. Just me being rebellious, smart, witty, quiet (and outspoken at the same time), always thinking, always spinning, always going against the grain with high energy at full speed.
It’s all good, I guess I would never want it to change.
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