Art effects everyday lives. Whether it is the carefully thought out composition, or merely sloppy graffiti; our visual landscape surounds us, making us feel comfort in a familiar place, or curiosity for something new. Growing up in an artist’s home has certainly given me perspective. I find myself judging work not only in a gallery but in a hotel room or restaurant. More often then not, I find the work displayed dull, perhaps pretty, but ultimately uninteresting. On the rare occasion of finding work I truly admire I try to understand what it is about that given piece that is so special. 

I have been given the special opportunity to have my own work displayed. This experience, though only one week away, is still unreal. I am excited, scared, thrilled and proud of my accomplishments. This mix of emotions leads to more nervousness, I hope so much for this to be a success. I keep flashing back to moments I have experienced in my life where I have been taken by art. Starting at age 4 at the Prado in Madrid, to recently at the Art Institute of Chicago. I love the stories that are told behind each piece, I love the people that I meet, the places I travel to. I hope that through the portraits of these Afghan girls, (which I promise to post as soon as they are all done!) I will lend a similar experience to those who choose to stop and observe. 

Upon reflection I realize that although it feels that I started this project just months ago, in actuality the process has been a lifetime. Despite the chaos of the past week, I am thrilled to have this opportunity.