"Creativity is my super power. I believe that art is how I add value to the world, my vehicle to learn, and my channel to teach from."
We always hear 'you are where you come from'-- such a largely used saying has to be rooted in some sort of truth. Or how about my personal favorite 'The apple doesn't far from the tree.' I think all of us can agree that experience is what shapes us. So when I'm asked 'why I have to create' -- it is impossible not to consult with childhood memories.
Bear with me as I indulge in the past: I know from the very beginning, I was very comfortable alone with my ideas. I wasn't interested in socializing with the other kids. I was barely able to form a sentence. I laugh as I type that last sentence. Anyone and everyone that has been within a 100 foot radius knows that this couldn't be farther from today's reality. But for as long as I can piece together, creating was my way of communicating.
So much so that, if I wasn't coloring, making forts (complete with custom cabinetry), baking, or writing there was a good chance I was sleeping. There was always a project at hand and if there wasn't the phrase "I'm bored" was liable to fly out of my mouth. And because I have a distinct recollection of my 6'2" grandmother warning me to never use that phrase in her house again-- I learned really quickly to stay busy.
In school being creative was quite possibly the best super power to have. Every assignment I saw as an opportunity. I took it so seriously that 'project due day' turned into my own version of 'game day.' I judged the success of a project through the volume of "Ooohs" and "Aaaws" I received as I walked into the classroom. I remember trying to play it off. too: walking in with an overly ambitious project and acting like it was no big deal. Looking back, it had to be transparent, since projects --more often than not-- became larger than I was.
But from the eyes of a shy kid, my projects were where I felt my first sense of empowerment, of self-worth, so I was always willing to work a little harder for the best result. My identity became synonymous with what I could produce, so I just kept producing.
Did I mention my dad was an art teacher? Forgive the abrupt interjection, but I hate to lead with that fact. No one seems to listen to the work that it takes to develop the craft. I often find myself fighting the notion that I was simply born into a 'gift' instead of celebrating a lifetime of learning.
My First Medium: Chocolate Pudding.
At the ripe old age of three, I loved paint so much that I began eating it. So my parents decided to arm me with chocolate pudding instead of acrylics. A masterpiece out of chocolate pudding was just another day in the Pavlick household.