Robert Reid
ArtistUSA
About Artist:
Nearly twenty years into a life sentence, the 38 year old artist lives an existence where he is forced daily to stare into an abyss of despair, depression and ennui. His art is a way for him to plumb those depths without becoming consumed by them; a way to find purpose in a purposeless life.
The self-taught artist finds himself drawn toward finely detailed pieces and finds temporary solace in losing himself to the complexities of pointillist art.
About Artwork:
Learning to draw and becoming an artist are two disparate things to me. Drawing is something I picked up in prison a long time ago. Becoming an artist is a process which I feel has only begun to happen over the last couple of years. Before I could grow into an artist, I had to tread an arduous road of growing into a man with something positive to express.
Being incarcerated at such a young age was emotionally damaging to me in a lot of ways and my road to here and now was a long one. At my lowest, I allowed myself to be defined by my environment. I became vicious, violent, self-serving and angry. One morning I woke to realize that I hated who I had become and decided that I couldn't handle this life anymore. I had every intention of saying my goodbyes to my parents at visitation, returning to my cell and ending my life.
That Sunday something happened that changed everything. I was sitting there at visitation when my mom pulled an ultrasound from her pocket, slid it across the table, and gave me my first glimpse of my nephew. Seeing that grainy image shook me to the core and made me realize two things: I wanted to meet him and watch him grow into a man, and if I wasn't going to end my life, I could no longer live as someone I despised either.
That was over 13 years ago. It has always been a struggle. Through it all though, I have managed to grow into a man that I don't hate. In 2017 I lost my brother, but he left a legacy behind in the form of a kind-hearted teenaged son and a rambunctious little sweetheart of a daughter.
Losing my brother gave me a purpose. I cannot be there with my family, but that doesn't have to mean that I can't take care of them from behind these walls. So with the help of my dad and my best friend, Ness, we launched NascentArt and put some pieces on RedBubble.com (do a search for nascentart). Every penny we make from my art goes into college funds for the kids. It's one way for me to be here for them given my incarceration.
My art has always been little more than escapism for me, a way for me to deal with my reality by running from it. It was something I did because losing myself in my art was better than the alternative. It was definitely not something I loved. These last two years have changed that for me. With Nascent Art came a purpose, a real reason. Since then my art has become a labor of love. Now that I've finally found a place where I no longer need to run from my reality or where I am not constantly in a state of self-loathing, now I feel as though I am finally becoming an artist.
My life is still hard, still largely empty, still depressing. My art is still an exercise in escapism, but it is a much healthier thing these days. Now that my art has become a joyous thing, I have found a head-space that has allowed me to begin to spread my wings creatively. Over the last year I have found a level of depth to my process that I never knew existed. I've experimented with new styles, new mediums, found new ways. Before I refused to look to the future, the prospect was too bleak. These days, I find myself eagerly looking forward to where my art can take me, and to where I can take my art.
I opened this with an artist statement that I wrote for an exhibit of which I hope to be a part. At the time, I was struck by how dark my words sounded, and I felt very self-conscious about them. I have since found a deeper meaning in those words. Sometimes reality is a very dark place, but if we can find just a single purpose, a single reason, it creates a light that penetrates through the murk. That shaft of light, no matter how deep the surrounding shadows, is enough to allow us to flourish. May all the art I create stand as a testament to that.
Robert Reid
Heeeres Johnny
- 2020
- 14 x 11 inches
- Fine Art Category: drawings
- Medium: Pigment ink
- Origin: USA
- Provenance: Created at Avery/Mitchell Correctional Institution
- Signed: Signed lower right
- Comments:
Since the beginning of Covid, I've heard a number of people comment on how they have become much better at reading a person's emotions looking only at the eyes, since everyone is wearing masks. This got me thinking: "Could we gain new insights into iconic images using our newfound sensitivity?" This piece is the first in an ongoing series that explores this idea.
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- Price: $1,000.00 USD
- Seller: Robert Reid, USA
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- Artplode ID: 6389
- Artplode Seller ID: 16120
About Artist:
Nearly twenty years into a life sentence, the 38 year old artist lives an existence where he is forced daily to stare into an abyss of despair, depression and ennui. His art is a way for him to plumb those depths without becoming consumed by them; a way to find purpose in a purposeless life.
The self-taught artist finds himself drawn toward finely detailed pieces and finds temporary solace in losing himself to the complexities of pointillist art.
About Artwork:
Learning to draw and becoming an artist are two disparate things to me. Drawing is something I picked up in prison a long time ago. Becoming an artist is a process which I feel has only begun to happen over the last couple of years. Before I could grow into an artist, I had to tread an arduous road of growing into a man with something positive to express.
Being incarcerated at such a young age was emotionally damaging to me in a lot of ways and my road to here and now was a long one. At my lowest, I allowed myself to be defined by my environment. I became vicious, violent, self-serving and angry. One morning I woke to realize that I hated who I had become and decided that I couldn't handle this life anymore. I had every intention of saying my goodbyes to my parents at visitation, returning to my cell and ending my life.
That Sunday something happened that changed everything. I was sitting there at visitation when my mom pulled an ultrasound from her pocket, slid it across the table, and gave me my first glimpse of my nephew. Seeing that grainy image shook me to the core and made me realize two things: I wanted to meet him and watch him grow into a man, and if I wasn't going to end my life, I could no longer live as someone I despised either.
That was over 13 years ago. It has always been a struggle. Through it all though, I have managed to grow into a man that I don't hate. In 2017 I lost my brother, but he left a legacy behind in the form of a kind-hearted teenaged son and a rambunctious little sweetheart of a daughter.
Losing my brother gave me a purpose. I cannot be there with my family, but that doesn't have to mean that I can't take care of them from behind these walls. So with the help of my dad and my best friend, Ness, we launched NascentArt and put some pieces on RedBubble.com (do a search for nascentart). Every penny we make from my art goes into college funds for the kids. It's one way for me to be here for them given my incarceration.
My art has always been little more than escapism for me, a way for me to deal with my reality by running from it. It was something I did because losing myself in my art was better than the alternative. It was definitely not something I loved. These last two years have changed that for me. With Nascent Art came a purpose, a real reason. Since then my art has become a labor of love. Now that I've finally found a place where I no longer need to run from my reality or where I am not constantly in a state of self-loathing, now I feel as though I am finally becoming an artist.
My life is still hard, still largely empty, still depressing. My art is still an exercise in escapism, but it is a much healthier thing these days. Now that my art has become a joyous thing, I have found a head-space that has allowed me to begin to spread my wings creatively. Over the last year I have found a level of depth to my process that I never knew existed. I've experimented with new styles, new mediums, found new ways. Before I refused to look to the future, the prospect was too bleak. These days, I find myself eagerly looking forward to where my art can take me, and to where I can take my art.
I opened this with an artist statement that I wrote for an exhibit of which I hope to be a part. At the time, I was struck by how dark my words sounded, and I felt very self-conscious about them. I have since found a deeper meaning in those words. Sometimes reality is a very dark place, but if we can find just a single purpose, a single reason, it creates a light that penetrates through the murk. That shaft of light, no matter how deep the surrounding shadows, is enough to allow us to flourish. May all the art I create stand as a testament to that.
