The Art of Escaping

Ever since I can remember, drawing and writing has always been my outlet. I remember sitting outside my family's RV on a vacation, with my father's MacBook on my lap. I gazed at the mountainous surroundings, filled my lungs with the aroma of pine needles, and at just six years old, I wrote my first short story. "Crazy Hair Day," was what I named it, and ever since that day, writing has been one of my main outlets.

Another way that I disconnect from the stressful world around me is to sketch and paint. To feel the wooden, light number two pencil scratching against sketch paper, to feel the smooth brush strokes against a canvas. These senses that radiate through my small body fill me with peace, which is something nothing from the world can compete with.

When I have a rough day, or maybe am hurt, writing transports me into an entirely different galaxy. When I type on a keyboard, I am no longer Anna, no longer a teenager who at times hates herself. I am an artist, an author, someone worth everything. I am a CREATOR. And when I'm in my own world, that's what I do. I create people, characters and backgrounds no one else has thought of. I create personalities, looks, and words.

I am my own, and my creations the same.

While painting, I will often put in my fifteen dollar earbuds (which work amazingly) and let stress evade out of my body. I physically feel the negativity trickle from my trembling, tired body. And as I guide my paintbrush to outline cartoon characters, a level of serotonin enters my body. No longer am I in the human world, but it feels as if I'm a part of the cartoon world. With Bugs Bunny, Tom and Jerry, even in Space Jam.

To most, hobbies allow for people to let loose and to stop thinking about the outside world. Maybe some write for money, some write to let out feelings that aren’t considered eligible to share with others. Some may paint for a school project, or maybe to get a credit over in college. Yet, to me art isn’t merely an expression. It isn’t something I use for extra credit, or just to take a little break. I write to be transformed, to be reborn into a different universe, a different life. As my fingers hit against the hollow keypads on my laptop, vibrations of wonder radiate through my body. The insides of my body feel sensations I cannot correctly explain. My stomach flutters in amazement, my brain grows in every which way. Writing isn’t just an escape, but a lifestyle I would never dare to leave.

As for the amazing art of painting and sketching, the sensations are completely different. My insides feel, of course. Yet I don’t feel a shocking energy as I see the artwork play out before me. As I see the sunsets I create, and the characters come to life, it is as if I am on vacation. In the Maldives, perhaps. Warm, a light perfect breeze. My small, pale feet dug into the warm white sand, my nose deep into a action romance book. A perfectly pink umbrella covering my easily burnt face. Round, rose-colored glasses, perhaps a designer brand and one-of-a-kind.

And as I paint, as I brush on every speck of acrylic paint, I stay there. In the Maldives, at the perfect beach. A perfectly amazing day, maybe the best in my life.

As you see, my hobbies don’t simply occupy me. They aren’t merely a stress-reliever, or something I do when I’m bored. Art doesn’t serve as a numbing from the outside world people crave to escape. It transforms me. For, when I write or simply sketch, I am no longer a teenage girl. I am no longer short, a little too white, maybe a little too unappealing. I AM SPECIAL, and I am my own.

When I escape my world, I lean closer to all of the things I aspire to be.