Lately, I've been feeling more tactile in the studio—getting my hands into the materials. Acrylics, mixed media, pigment, texture, brushes, pens... it's all part of my new rhythm. It’s a completely different experience from painting digitally on my iPad with Procreate. Don’t get me wrong, digital painting still calls to me—especially for sketching or during those quiet, cozy couch moments—but something about the messiness of traditional mediums has helped me tap into a fresh energy.
As I’ve been creating this week, something I’ve been carrying with me for months resurfaced.
It happened during a TikTok Live, when I casually mentioned that I paint digitally. A curator from L.A. immediately dismissed it. She laughed and said, “Painters paint with paint.” I replied, “I paint with pixels instead of pigment,” but the way she said it made it clear that she didn’t see my work—or me—as valid.
And that stung.
I tried not to let it affect me, but it planted a seed of doubt. I questioned my medium, my identity as an artist, and whether I belonged. I eventually unfollowed her, knowing I’d never want to collaborate with someone who doesn’t respect the diverse spectrum of artmaking. But still, the comment lingered in my mind.
What’s helped me through it is simple: creating. Making art. Letting go of that external voice and choosing to listen to my own. Art—whether with pixels, pigment, or pen—is an extension of my soul. I’m not here to fit into someone else’s narrow definition of what’s valid or valuable.
This week, I had a breakthrough with my mini canvas pieces. They’re abstract, botanical, intuitive—full of dots, spirals, and shimmering contrasts. Each one feels like a small reflection of growth—and I think they mirror my own growth, too.
The biggest lesson this week?
Your medium doesn’t define your worth. Your voice does.
And I’m proud to say that mine is getting louder.
