I could always feel creativity whirling around inside me. When I was young, it would be expressed through short stories and drawings; monsters, haunted houses, planetary invasions and other such horrors. Throughout elementary and middle school, I was writing and sketching all sorts of fictional scenes and characters. By early high school, though, this was fading. Then it was gone.

From the beginning of my teenage years to my late 20’s, there was an artistic drought in my life. I worked in early childhood education and restaurants; long shifts with low pay. Mostly I would daydream, spend time with friends, play video games, watch movies. There were no creatives hobbies within a thousand miles.

On rare occasion, I would try to write but lacked a sense of voice and momentum. In 15 years, I managed to finish a single short script. Despite the lack of effort and inspiration, I never gave up the dream. I could become a writer or filmmaker, I thought. Like a phantom limb, I could still sense the latent tugging of my childhood imagination.

Although I felt this indescribably faint pressure to create, I also felt frozen in my routines and thoughts. It seemed the distance between my life and the creative life I dreamed of was too vast. And dreams do feel painfully unattainable if all you do is dream about them.

In late 2020, I moved back to my hometown of Portland, OR after living in New Orleans for a few years. At this point, there was still no creative expression in my life, no hobbies at all. Living a creative life was a dream within a dream. I hardly even thought about it anymore. I'd become a teacher or journalist.

Then, in late September 2021, I decided I wanted a tattoo. I couldn't settle on any designs and encouraged myself to try to design one. I bought my first sketchbook and started teaching myself to draw. The ideas came on strong and fast. It felt effortless.

I found myself madly sketching and sketching for hours. For days, for weeks. This was mostly an incoherent outpouring of pure imaginative energy; an overflow of ideas bursting out of my skull. I had so many potential designs I couldn't draw fast enough to keep up. I filled an entire pile of sketchbooks before realizing I needed something more substantial to scratch this suddenly burning itch.

After some thought, I went to a local thrift store, bought a canvas, some cheap art supplies, and started painting.

It was a sensation I hadn't felt in my life; a joy and compulsion like taking some sort of drug. Every day went from feeling 'normal' in a most general sense, to feeling like Christmas morning as a kid. My bones chattered with levels of excitement and anticipation throughout the days and nights, waiting to get back to my easel. It occupied my entire mind.

My life started to splinter in many ways, as everything felt suddenly inconsequential in comparison to making art. This feeling had spiraled into an obsessive fixation with painting - a compression of everything in my life down to its bare minimum so I could maximize my creative output. My sleeping, eating, general health and social life all suffered tremendously. I was frantically making as much art as possible, as if my life were somehow on the line. 5 hours, 10 hours, 15 hours per day; painting until I'd have to hold ice on my swelling fingers and aching wrist going to bed. Not to mention numerous other unhealthy habits that developed and personal relationships that crumbled. At 3am, I would be drinking black coffee, wine and smoking like a chimney while madly painting multiple canvases.

This continued. Even through two visits to Urgent Care, which were caused by obvious neglect of my health, this continued. The rekindled imagination and ignited passion were giving me endless joy and purpose, but they were also killing me.

I realized the severity of my situation when I turned 30 but felt like death. Years without cooking, without exercise, without proper sleep or routines had extracted their toll. Some major course corrections to my life were desperately needed.

Upon this wake-up call, I cut all my alcohol and drug consumption, implemented exercise and other healthy routines, taught myself to cook, reestablished my social life, began working on business, among other modes of damage control.

By then, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I wanted to become a professional artist. After exiting the carousel of madness I was on since October 2021, I recognized my style and technique had evolved into a particular vision and style. It's messy but also decidedly fresh, having grown out of the turmoil and bliss of those years teaching myself through trial and error, over and over and over again.

My style developed out of sheer amount of hours practiced - well over 4,000 now in late 2025 - in combination with a highly visual and active imagination, which was resuscitated through my desire for a tattoo.

Within a few years, I was able to start selling my paintings and participating in small gallery shows and events. Now, after 4 years since I began this journey, I am supporting myself with my art and plotting a trajectory into the world of contemporary art. I don't know where it will take me but I know I have to go for it.

My process for making art is also unique. The core elements of my practice are speed, layers, intuition and polytasking. Like an abstract expressionist, I don't like to think logistically while creating. I let quick hands, quick arms and guts guide me to what the painting is. As one of my favorite artists, Willem de Kooning, said, 'One has to be willing to lose a picture to paint one.'

My artistic inspiration comes from my own crazy imagination, art books, retro aesthetics, cultures from around the world, other visual mediums (movies, graphic novels, photography, etc.) and of course work from other artists.

I still paint for hours every day, but now I am also working to create a foundation for my business to grow and by extension, a platform through which I can inspire and encourage others to pursue creative endeavors, professionally or just for fun.

It's a strong belief of mine art makes a incalculable difference in the world, and I hope my work inspires others to express themselves freely, no matter how strange it feels. After all, you never know how much things can change in a short amount of time.

I am forever in debt to my discovery of art.

• AA. Orellana