Leslie Lambert

Art has many purposes, an unlimited range of possibilities for emotion, expression, work or pleasure. For me, art has become a way to destroy myself from the inside out from gut wrenching anxiety about my sub-par quality of work, through my lack of understanding of concepts like value, perspective, and shaping of forms, to my consistent inability to draw a contour line, or render a face. Art has become the most beautiful ideal I cannot uphold, in a similar manner to how the average woman feels about their own body never being enough, compared to those praised by society, though many of those insecurities could be made better over time with consistent self care, exercise, wardrobe and hygiene. My art is a morbidly obese woman, with greasy hair, leggings two sizes too tight, and a foul odor, and though the road to improvement is years of hard work, and consistent dedication. I’m taking the steps to improve upon myself and my understanding of art, knowing after much more practice I will come to a point where I can be proud of my work and feel confident in what I’m able to show, and express to the world.