In my experience as a designer and filmmaker, I’ve recently begun to question the role of art in my work. In particular, I am talking about fine art. Design has been and always will be a great creative profession allowing the use of creative and imaginative skills for practical purposes. On a personal level, my early years in design school at Cal Poly, and my graduate work in film at Chapman were great foundations for this. It has taken me a long way in allowing me to create everything from logos for Disney to movie posters of John Travolta or Drew Barrymore. Lately though, I want more, much more. In formula 1 racing, oftentimes car manufacturers will research, experiment, and build exotic cars to win races. They pass down the technology into their production models. Similarly, fine art can have a a dramatic effect in client-based mediums such as graphic design and to some extent, film. I’ve never truly considered myself an “artist.” It was kind of a big word reserved for only people who paint large canvases in oils like my friend Tahir. But it’s as if I was afraid of avoiding consciousness altogether. I’m aware of the abstract possibilities of life, love, and simply being. These things hover around me and I turn the other way because I’m somehow convinced that other people don’t see it and I shouldn’t stick out. If a gay man has his day and comes “out of the closet,” perhaps there is such a day for an artist to declare himself.
