The Art of Becoming Part One:
“It started with a simple concept: to create something that embodies my journey, my growth, and my vision. As I began crafting, each fold brought new challenges—some unexpected, some daunting. Yet, with every challenge, I found joy in the process, learning to embrace the imperfections and celebrate the small victories.”
The Art Of Becoming - Part Two:
“The process of producing an idea and bringing it to life is filled with both challenges and triumphs. From the initial spark of inspiration to the meticulous folding of paper, every step in creating this large paper crane has been a testament to my dedication and passion as a visual artist.”
Braids: @aysiabraids
The Art of Becoming - Part 3:
“As a visual artist, I promise to continue pushing my boundaries, capturing the essence of joy and wonder, and telling stories that inspire and connect. This paper crane is more than just an art piece; it’s a symbol of my commitment to my craft and my belief in the transformative power of creativity.”
Last year, I shaped a giant paper crane and called it art. Becoming was the word I held close. becoming a better man, becoming more intentional, becoming someone I could respect. I thought that was the work. But this year, I realized becoming isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s unraveling. Slowing down. Sitting still long enough to hear the real things. The honest things.
This year taught me that healing is loud and quiet. It sounds like me admitting I don’t always know what I want, and sometimes needing more time than I let on. I made mistakes I needed to make, moments where I chose silence over communication, fear over clarity, hesitation over faith. And still, life didn’t abandon me. It softened me. It cracked me open. I watched parts of me die that I no longer needed. The people pleasing. The overexplaining. The urge to be the strong one when I really needed someone to ask me how I was doing.
I’ve been learning how to hold joy without guilt. How to love and be loved, not for how I perform but for how I simply am. My relationship taught me that being seen fully is both terrifying and freeing. I learned that doubt doesn’t always mean stop, it sometimes just means pause. And when I paused, I met new ideas, new friends, new parts of myself that had been waiting for the noise to quiet down.
As I enter 30, I’m not chasing arrival anymore. I’m chasing honesty. Soft power. Clear no’s. Play. Intimacy with my own spirit. The work is still the work but now I know it starts from within. This year’s self-portrait won’t be about becoming. It’ll be about being. Whole. Flawed. Healing. Honest.
