Your cart is currently empty!
The Journey Back to Art: A Creative Detour Through Life
Two things have been a constant in my life, no matter what phase I’ve found myself in: my love of animals and the joy I find in creating art.
I can still remember sitting in my room, using the perforated edges of dot matrix computer paper as my sketchpad, carefully tracing the animals from my Learn to Draw Animals book. VHS covers of my favorite Disney movies became my templates as I tried to capture the magic of animated characters. Even back then, drawing felt like a way to bring stories to life—something uniquely mine.
In junior high, my love of drawing took on a more social element. My friends and I would write letters to each other, decorating the margins with little cartoons that reflected our own personal styles. Each letter became a piece of art, filled with tiny characters that felt like an extension of ourselves. Then in high school, everything changed when my art teacher introduced me to acrylic painting. Her classroom became my safe space—a creative refuge in a school where I never quite felt like I measured up. That was the first time I realized that art could be more than a hobby; it could be a way to express myself on a deeper level.
The Crossroads: Art vs. Animals
When it came time to choose a college, my love of animals took the lead. I pursued a double major in Primatology and Anthropology, dreaming of a career as a zookeeper. But even with my science-focused path, I couldn’t ignore the pull of the art department.
With a packed course load, I thought an art minor would be the perfect balance—until I realized how demanding it would be. My first class, Drawing 101, introduced me to gesture drawing, charcoal, and the challenge of working with live models. It was a learning curve, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Encouraged, I signed up for another art class, hoping to expand my creative skills.
That’s when I made a huge mistake.
The Art Class That Broke Me
Scanning through the list of courses, I spotted Jewelry Making. I assumed it would be a relaxing class—stringing beads, designing pendants, maybe crafting a delicate bracelet or two. Instead, I walked into a welding class.
I still remember my first project: a brooch made from brass. It had meaning at the time, but honestly, I can’t even recall what it was supposed to represent. What I do remember is the painstaking process of cutting, shaping, soldering, and polishing metal—none of which came naturally to me. The class had a reputation for being grueling, and I quickly understood why.
The late nights, the frustration, the endless hours spent trying (and failing) to perfect my welds—I was in over my head. The final project turned into an all-nighter locked in the art building, desperately trying to finish in time. The exhaustion, the pressure—it was the first time an art class made me feel like I wasn’t cut out for it.
That experience forced me to make a tough decision. I had to ask myself: Do I push forward with an art minor, knowing how demanding it will be, or do I fully commit to my original goal of working with animals?
In the end, I chose the latter. I let go of my art minor and dedicated myself fully to my Primatology and Anthropology studies. At the time, it felt like the right choice. Working with animals had been my dream for as long as I could remember, and I convinced myself that art could always be “just a hobby.”
Returning to Creativity on My Own Terms
Fast forward to today, and I sometimes wonder—what if I had stuck with art? Would I have pursued a career in it sooner? Would I have had the confidence to make it a bigger part of my life earlier?
Regret is a tricky thing. I know that every choice I made led me to where I am now. The years I spent working with animals were some of the most rewarding of my life. But now, as a freelance artist, I’ve realized that creativity was never just a passing interest. It was always a part of me, waiting for the right moment to take center stage.
And here’s the thing—I don’t need a formal degree to pursue this passion. The world of online learning has made it possible to teach myself everything from digital illustration to video editing. I’ve mastered software I never thought I’d understand, filmed and edited my own creative content, and built a portfolio of work that truly represents me.
That being said, there are still things I would love to learn in a hands-on setting. Ceramics, for example, has been calling my name for a while now. The idea of learning how to throw pottery on a wheel, to mold and shape something with my hands, feels like the next creative challenge I want to tackle. Maybe that’s an adventure for 2025.
For now, I’m grateful. Grateful for the years I spent working with animals, grateful for the chance to reconnect with my creativity, and grateful for the opportunities I have now to make art on my own terms.
Your Own Creative Crossroads
If you’re on a creative journey of your own, I’d love to hear about it. Have you ever had to make a difficult decision about pursuing art? Have you ever let go of something, only to find your way back to it later? Let’s talk about it in the comments below.
Until next time,
❤ Kelly
Leave a Reply