by R. Zumar
Really, I don’t know where to start. How can I explain this to you so that you may understand what I’m going through. I’ve written and erased, written and erased again trying to find the right words to say, but really there are none. The only thing to do is explain what is going on and how I’m feeling about it all. I can only hope that you understand.
Art is my path to freedom, mentally and maybe one day physically. It’s my escape from these walls and the minds around me that would rather me to immerse myself into prison life than to d something productive. I’ve decided not to do tat and to keep going down the path of becoming a master artists.
The becomings of a master isn’t a becoming of small cost and I would assume you to understand. Now in this environment the challenge is tenfold. I pay more for materials that I have access to than they cost out that and that doesn’t make sense to me. Essentially I pay double the price than you would pay out there and I don’t get money like that. I have family but don’t have family, have friends but don’t have friends. So really do I have family and friends? I scrap and scramble to survive in here and that’s doing it the right way. They take whatever I gain to buy art materials to further my studies. It’s like I have an apartment that must pay rent for and a care note due. Food is slim and I have utilities to pay off. Do I pay my bills or do I risk to create. Well I’ve risked to create.
I’ve neglected a lot over the last few years and it’s catching up and I’m losing control of the time. Here when you lose control of your time it controls you. And I’ve sacrificed that control. Art was a hobby to keep myself out of trouble, then it became a challenge and a love. I can’t see myself not creating and trying to become better at this craft. I’ve never sold art and don’t know how it’s priced. I just got a formula from a book I read and will soon begin to apply it. I’ve tried an experiment with earlier works of mine to see how that goes. I can envision how to be successful with my work if I could do it myself. But I can’t do it myself because I don’t have the access. So the question I ask myself is, “Why keep sacrificing when there seems to be no hope in it and it has pushed me into a bohemia lifestyle? Why should I keep creating? How can I give to others when I have nothing to give?”. I don’t know. And something inside me overrides my doubts and I still pick up a pencil and start sketching for my next work.
This is my first self-portrait, “Bohemia.” It’s of a sickly me working on a healthier version of myself.
These are the things I struggle with in my becomings of a master.
About the guest contributor:
“I’m Rayfel Zumar Bell known as R. Zumar and discovered my passion for art while incarcerated. I’m a self taught who strives to break into the art world even from a cell. I spend the lions share of my time thinking about and creating art, the rest working out and my favorite pass time, snacking :)! Through art I want to help others and contribute to various charities I care about; cancer, autism, sponsoring kids in need around the globe, and preserving wildlife.”
