Old art: an unwritten diary of feelings and stages in life

Hello friends, I've had this thought on my mind and I wanted to make a deep-dive post about it.
When we think of our own art over time (of course I'm gonna use myself as a reference), we usually jump to thinking about the technical aspects — how much we've improved or how much our style has changed.

But have you ever done the mental exercise of remembering how you felt when you drew something?

I thought of this because, looking back, I noticed how many symbolisms I used to include in my drawings would slowly disappear as new art came along. It wasn’t a thought-out process of actively trying to stop using them, but they were just naturally replaced by new ideas, new symbols, and meanings.

Things change in life and maybe, without us even noticing, this reflects in our art more than we realize."

For this post i looked back to almost all my old art and collected a few screenshots of reocurring themes, let's look back on them together.

Artist/Media Shoutouts 2017-2019

I think 2017 was the year where I found a style I truly started feeling comfortable with.
Back then, I was much more actively chatting within art communities — I really felt like giving little odes to other artists was the coolest shit ever.

I think this is something I wouldn’t mind doing nowadays, of course, but it’s insane how in most drawings from back then, there’d be at least one — most of the time more than one — reference to an artist or media.

I think the reason this isn’t really the case anymore is that I started focusing more on myself, and maybe I felt like I was trying too hard to draw attention to my art through the references, rather than just letting it be good on its own.

E57: a way home 2016-2018

E57 is the name of a bus route I used to take when I was younger.
You probably don’t know this, but I was a high school dropout — I ended up getting my diploma much later in life (I think when I was around 20). This was the route I’d take to get home.

To me, it meant comfort and familiarity. I also associate that memory — and my art from that time — with more urban settings.

Eventually, the memory and the number stopped feeling relevant, and so I stopped drawing it.

Smoking 2017-2024

There was a time when I know for a fact some people recognized me as the 'cigarette girl' artist.
The amount of pieces featuring smoking definitely peaked a few years ago, but it didn’t really stop until last year — which lines up with when I quit smoking myself.

To me, smoking represents a space of calm in a fast-moving world. Years ago, while talking with my sister, she said something that stuck with me:
'Smoking forces you to breathe — you can’t smoke a cigarette quickly. You have to inhale and exhale, like you'd do in a meditation.'

I’m glad I don’t smoke anymore, but I also don’t see tobacco in the same harsh light that many others do.

Into the Grotesque & Strong Emotions 2021 - today

I was honestly thinking of putting these as two separate points, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how closely related they are.

Over time, in the process of figuring out what I wanted to express through my art, I found that creating more emotional pieces felt like a more real way — for me — to connect with people. It's something others can relate to.

And I think the same kind of thing applies when I make more gore-esque pieces. It’s just a more extreme version of that emotional connection — a stronger emotion, but one that shows itself in a more uncomfortable to look way.

I think it’s really cool, because looking back, this became my way of connecting with the public — and it contrasts so much with what I was just writing about earlier, when I used to make little odes to other artists as my way of reaching out to connect with people.

Colombia / identity 2019 - Today

(This is gonna be a long text...)

I think I’m being very honest when I say that, prior to 2019, I didn’t really care much about my own country.
And by that, I don’t mean I hated it — I just saw it more like a tag. Something next to my name, on my passport or ID, that could’ve just as easily been something else.

Given the historical political climate, the idea of migrating somewhere else crossed my mind often when I was a teenager. Looking back, I don’t think I really felt like I belonged anywhere — and without that, there didn’t seem to be a reason to feel pride.

I guess I believed that pride in a country should come from the opportunities and security it provides its citizens. And if we’re going by things like salaries and safety alone, I think we Colombians would probably land somewhere in the middle if we compared ourselves to the rest of the world by those standards.

Then 2019 happened. The first big national strike in the country was brewing — inspired by the events unfolding in Chile at the time. People were organizing against the government in ways we had never seen before: blocking highways, filling public squares across every major city.

Unofficial groups like Primera Línea (“the first line”), made up mostly of young university students, became the front line of resistance against riot police.

I was inspired to participate myself — and to this day, I still consider it a mind-changing experience. A real before and after moment for me, both as an artist and as a person.

It forced me to talk to people I wouldn’t have normally talked to, go to places I wouldn’t have gone otherwise — and it gave me a sense of belonging I didn’t know I was missing, until that hole was suddenly filled with something.

It had a domino effect on me. After that, I felt this need to explore the unknown diversity my country had to offer. And slowly, I began to realize I wasn’t just learning about my surroundings — I was learning about myself in the process.

Suddenly, everything I learned wasn’t just something to look outward at — but something that also pointed inward.

This, and many other thoughts and experiences, eventually led me to the lifestyle I have now. I can’t help but feel blessed living in a small town, seeing all the wildlife that peeks its head outside my window, wandering near the creek that flows downhill beside the building.

Thank you so much for reading and supporting me, would love to hear any thoughts you may have of this, much love.