I've never felt worthy of labelling myself an Artist. I didn't enjoy the subject at school and you wouldn't have caught me drawing for hours as a child. I aspired to learn how the body works and the alignment of the planets, but never had the desire to create. Yet, somehow, at aged twenty-three-and-a-half I look back and realise that it's all I've been doing for the past nine years.
Lately, I've been growing increasingly self-aware at a pleasurably alarming rate. I can see myself evolving from every morning I wake up to every night I try to sleep, and the daily results of this positive mental state are only fuel to the fire. I'm still not sure how to put it all into words, so I've started writing everything in a journal during the brief moments of clarity, which in return is only making my thoughts move faster and my eyes open wider.
One of the prominent themes of these self-observations is that, yes, I am worthy of that title. I AM an Artist. I am a small part of a huge movement, one which may not currently be entirely visible but will be looked back upon in awe. I'm here to create, to question, to write, think, inspire and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me - not you, not them, not even me. I'm a ball of determination building momentum at such ridiculous speeds that I might just crash and burn out, but that's not of my concern until I do. I am bleeding all the colours of a rainbow over everything I touch and I won't stop until the last drop dries up.
Over the past three months I've been connecting with local creatives in Auckland in an attempt to stop myself exploding from this fantastic mind-fuck of realisation, and thought it a good idea to attempt to bring everyone together, and what better time than a rainy Sunday at the end of May. Five of us - Dawn, Claire, Genevieve, Cristina & I (and Nico!) - spent the day at Thievery Studio on K'Road with cameras in hand and minds open, challenging ourselves to take a creative portrait of each other in the space available. It was thrilling to be amongst such creative energy and I felt a duty to document that.