My Start In Kicevo

A page from the brochure of an artist residency in Kicevo, Macedonia, 2005

When I look at this picture, I see a very different artist. She's me alright; but I've come to realize how much I've grown since 2005 when this picture was taken. This may sound like the same nostalgic musings of anyone reminiscing the past and internalizing the myriad ways in which one has matured and developed a whole new, much "improved", sense of their place in the world. But it's more than that: I've also learned to venture into my own direction; make my own path; establish my own sets of goals; create in my own way.

I was the second youngest artist in this residency they called the Kicevo Art Colony. There were over a dozen artists from other countries to work and live together for two weeks in the beautiful mountains of Kicevo, a few hours from the capital, Skopje. I had just graduated from university and was about to enter grad school after the summer. I was hopeful in my pursuit to become both an artist and a professional overseas development worker (my masters degree was in Development Studies). Little did I know back then the magnitude of the task I put myself to. One dream was invariably going to suffer a little for the other.

There was an older painter from China who set up his workspace close to mine. His work was intricate and the rate in which he completed them was impressive. He had gone through five canvasses when the rest of us were still working on our first or second. Come to think of it, he went through his gin at about the same speed. He also took it upon himself to act as my "mentor", unbeknownst to me. I had no qualms since I felt inexperienced and not quite up to par with the the other more accomplished artists. The problem was, I did not know how to filter his advice. And under the influence of his precious gin, he felt right at home on my canvasses, adding bits he thought it needed, and color that wasn't there before (this caused quite a scene with another artist who thought he was crossing the line, and a fight broke out by my easel--probably the only action that village had seen in a while).

Soaking it in with another artist from the residency

I took in the advice of all the other artists too, and became so influenced by them, I wasn't sure anymore where their voices ended and mine began. But this is how it is as a young painter. You have to soak it all in like a sponge. Though eventually, you will have to learn to assert yourself and recognize your own voice. I love to hear other people's advice and listen to what constructive criticism they have to offer. But I would never let anyone touch a work-in-progress unless we decided to collaborate together.

The difference now is that I too have advice to give; a perspective to offer. I am becoming my own painter, slowly but surely. The training wheels have only really just come off, so I am still fresh blood to the pack of more established artists who have spent the larger chunk of their lives expressing themselves through their work. But me, I've only just begun.