A person may have a million recollections during a lifetime. However, most of these remembrances are infinitesimal, with only room for a few truly profound experiences to influence one's destiny; One's life path. As I began to really focus on art at the beginning of my high school career, I found that inspiration does not always just come to you. I would spend hours looking through countless Google images trying to find references for some of my more intricate drawings and paintings. This process felt somehow artificial to me, and yet I carried on. Picture after picture I would copy, steadily learning the ins and outs of composition, line work, and color schemes. While this kept me busy for years, there was a constant whisper in the back of my mind which told me that there was something more out there, something more to be unlocked.
Now you're probably asking yourself how this has anything to do with the most memorable experience of my life, and I'm getting there! So be patient! As time passed I began to take keen interest in the work of other artists. I would marvel over masters like Escher and Dali. While I admired their line work and brushstrokes, time would stand still as I stared. I wondered how their thought process worked and what their inspiration was derived from. I longed for inspiration of my own. True, pure, real inspiration. On February 18th, 2014, I had my first breakthrough. A single moment marked the most memorable, spiritual, and profound experience of my life. It was a Friday night, and I was up late texting on my iPhone. When I closed my eyes, the image of my phone was still fresh in my brain. It took a second, but then a lucid dream began to ensue. It was as if my subconscious mind was projecting a motion picture onto the back of my eyelids, and I had a front row seat at the cinema. The scene was set on a barren and flat landscape, and my hand was still holding my phone in the foreground, a residue from reality if you will. Then a succession of random and cluttered pieces of man-made technology emerged in the background, the technology becoming progressively more archaic the farther they were placed in the distance. This odd procession of everyday items consisted of televisions, radios, light bulbs, old-style aircraft, and I think there was even a welder's torch mixed somewhere in this peculiarly intriguing scene. Then, as if from a heat wave originating over the horizon, all this technology began to melt. The older pieces melted first, but then it all began to melt. I vividly remember that my iPhone was the last thing to soften, and it liquified right in my hand. The black glass ran down my arm with a gleaming sheen and a high viscosity. This dream sequence culminated as the melting technology pooled into a meandering river.
I awoke in a start, and it took me a minute to realize what I had just witnessed within my own head. I got out of bed and sketched what I had seen so I could remember in the morning. When the sun rose, I drew a much larger and more detailed version of my quick sketch from the night before. I titled my work "The Fluidity of Technology," and for the first time that I could remember, I was truly satisfied with what I had made. The inspiration had come from within, that was the aspect missing from before. In a single moment of Dali-like imagination my entire artistic process was changed forever. Since then I have been trying to train myself to remember my dreams and derive inspiration from them, but this singular episode marks the most memorable experience of my life.