Art. The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.I love and enjoy my job at church; not just because I work with Eddie (jajaja). It’s exciting, frustrating, exhilarating, tiresome, fulfilling and tedious all at the same time. And for those who don’t know what I do: I am the Graphic Artist at Christian Center of National City. I design flyers, posters, tickets, biz cards and everything Eddie comes up with. I design for the Dorcas, Varones, Juniors, Youth, The Experience and the Church as a whole (it’s gets overwhelming at times). I am also the Creative Director and Guitar Coordinator at the Experience, which I profoundly enjoy, being under Pastor Eddie’s wing that is. I have my own office (space) with my own personal Mac Pro with a 30” Flat screen (that I share) that requires me to take a break every 10 minutes, jajaja jk.But all this did not come easy. It took time and development. It took patience and obedience. It took Determination and vision.An thus the story begins...I was small and I loved drawing, but I lacked focus. I would start something passionately but finish quickly or quit for I would loose interest. My second grade teacher would loose her temper on me, I still remember her name: Ms. Pichardo, she was old and mean so I knew why she was still a miss. She would call conference after conference with my mom because I would not take pride in my work and I would finish quickly to get the fake money she would give for finishing first. She gave us once a picture of 8 flowers; you know the typically black lines on a brownish-grayish recycled paper [ok, one thing about… I hate (or extremely dislike) coloring jajaja). Well she provided 8 flowers and 9 Crayola color crayons (you remember?): red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, white and black. I went through the first 7 but when I got to the 8th flower I ran out of “real” colors and left with white and black, I was not going to reuse another color (at the time it seemed obvious to me) and I wasn’t going to use white on a “white” background so I used black. Well, grumpy Ms. Pichardo went off at me and immediately scheduled a parent conference with my mom denouncing me as a emotionally disturbed child because I colored a black flower… a little off topic there. JajajaWhen I lived in TJ my parents saw my love for art and drawing displayed on the walls of our home. While they were pleased that they bore a creative child they felt lead to redirect my talent towards a different canvas. My parents signed me up for art classes at the Casa de la Cultura, I was in 1st grade and 6 years old, my first artistic training.Right before 3rd grade my family went through a hard economic time and had to leave our home in Tijuana to go live with my grandparents in Chula Vista, California in one bedroom. My dad moved to Arizona to work for my uncle and was not with us for over a year, communicating to us only through cards of goofy and Winnie pooh. I missed him; I wanted my dad back. I would ask my mom who would build me my easel? Who was going to take me to art classes?The day he came back I experienced my first “happy tears” as I called them. I couldn’t explain them, I was extremely happy yet I was crying. My dad was home and the way he made it up was… signing me up for cartoon drawing classes, ofcourse that made my day.4th grade was here and I was the star of my class. I knew how to draw spider-man and batman. I could draw my classmates in capes. I drew Goku and Gohan. I drew Pikachu and Ash Ketchum. 5th grade passed and my popularity grew and grew, everyone knew me, I was the school artist. My dad signed me up for watercoloring classes and off I was towards my still-life endeavors. My aunt asked to buy one of my paintings to hang on her wall. I refused, but was still grateful that my art was considered worthy of exhibition.As I graduated, or promoted, from elementary to middle school, I left a legacy. In P.E. my younger brother was selected first for soccer teams because he was the brother of “Misael.”
…that was half of my artistic story, return for the next half, or not, completely up to you. I on the other hand have to come back because I have made a commitment to you, I will provide you the next exhilarating chapter of this story-o-mine.
-Misa
Follow me
Posts
