I realized recently my work has become more joyous; how very different from not so long ago.

Making art can work like journaling for me—a way to express my moods, feelings, and convictions: I draw and paint (and write) how I feel.

And so with this drawing made not quite five years ago: blues, greens, and blacks draped in bended form (a stand in for myself), “I wear my melancholy like a shirt” written in the lower right-hand corner. Like an old diary entry or photo album page, it transports me back to another time.

I look at it and think: “How far I have travelled.”

I have changed. I change.

Reflecting on my art helps me see that—what I notice, what I feel more or less affinity to or distance from. My art allows me to see myself better. To perceive not the world changing, but myself.

To know (really know) how (with persistence) I move from melancholy to joy.