DRAWING INSPIRATION

Andrew Park often starts his drawings by laying down one long continuous stroke— one that zig-zags, wanders, and winds, doubling back on itself, taking digressions and detours across the page to fill in details that were missed. Before the pen-tip leaves the page, the messy outlines of a unique person— an unmistakable Kobe, or an Uma— is already becoming visible. 

Our conversation recapping From Me To You, Park’s recent art exhibit at The Combine, was a little like one of these line-contour drawings. 

Park’s parents grew up in Korea at a time when “Artist” was not treated as a serious career path— to his father’s dismay. Later, as a kid, Andrew himself used art only as an imaginative escape from Mississauga. Now that he’s seen much more of the world, he’s revisiting the past, and rethinking his future.

We talked about his inspirations— from his family and friends, to anti-heroes. We discussed going from job to job to find your “thing”, and about going back to school. Wherever Andrew’s exploration of the art world brings him next, it feels like there’s never been a better time for creative souls to take a non-traditional path.  

First question: Burnt to a Crisp or Bloody as Hell… — if we’re ordering steaks. (My hamfisted attempt at a Pulp Fiction-themed ice-breaker).

Oh! (laughs) I thought you meant, you know, how would I prefer to die? I’ll go bloody as hell. 

Who would you rather be, Mr. Pink or Mr. Blue?

I like both colors, but I feel like this is another reference to Tarantino. Still, I'm gonna go with my little nephew’s favourite colour. So I'm gonna go with Mister Pink. But I like Blue too. 

I do it for fun— for my kid self; for that eight year old me

What, in ten words or less, is your first solo exhibition about to you?

Family. Passion. Pivot. (Because it’s at a pivot in my life.) Personal. Purpose, Pain. Legacy. (Because art, for me, started when I was a kid— growing up in Mississauga, dealing with racism, being bullied: Art was my therapy.) Inspiration would be another one… how many words was that— like, 6 or 7? 

In “From Me To You”, who is the Me and who is the You? 

Me as in myself, my family and everyone in my past, to— you as the audience. When I wrote that title From Me To You, it was way before I even put the art pieces together. The “TO” in the title also has a meaning, as in: Toronto. I thought a lot about the significance of having my first exhibit in my hometown. The pressure wasn't to create something to impress anybody. I do it for fun — for my kid self; for that eight-year-old me — when he was kind of lost— or even me two years ago when I was just as lost.

Is there something about your family legacy you’re trying to encapsulate in this exhibit? 

Backstory is, my dad wanted to be a painter, an artist, back in the day when— typical for an East Asian household— the career paths available are those that are proven. So: be a doctor, a lawyer, a politician. Things that have a straight path. Step-by-step. Korea wasn't as developed as it is now. And so, being creative wasn't a viable path for him to take.

I learned all of this years before I even thought about pursuing art for myself. But I think I held onto a lot of deep personal stories that my parents would share with me. The legacy I’m thinking about includes those things from back then, but also, drawing as my escape. From my own day-to-day life at eight-years-old, to 30 years— and a Bachelors of Fine Arts— later. 

How does the escape you got from drawing at 8 show up in your art now?

I was drawing cartoons and comic books as a kid. You can see the inspiration I’ve drawn from those days on the walls in the gallery. That cartoony style, that's also paying homage to my personality. I don’t consider myself this very serious “art person”. I'm not a guy that’ll just sit and talk about art all day. Doing it's just for fun. 

When I first started going back to drawing, I would always try to do this continuous line art, which is basically one-line drawing. I did that first Kobe drawing, and I felt very insecure about sharing stuff on social media. But I would just do it to build the habit. And people were very receptive. 

Sometimes the things you hate the most will be the things that make people say, “hey, that's cool— that’s unique”. Looking back now, after the exhibit, I think that's part of my signature style I'll take with me. This exhibit just represents everything from my past up to now, and showing it to all my friends and people that showed up— my family, my sister in law, my nephew. 

Celebrating the opening night on my mom's 70th birthday was a big thing for me, too. I wanted to do something special for them all. Because they've seen me through all these different chapters, especially the chaotic periods, in my teens, my 20s.

I didn't really care about studying art, back when I was doing a degree in it

Was this more like a moment of closure, or opening a new chapter?

Opening, and just running through that door. I wrote a huge list of goals in my early 20s. And all those things manifested into some shape or form. So, yeah, I reflected back. Doing the Toronto exhibit was one of those things. But now, I know what I can do when I put my mind to it. I know what I can get done.

So how did your experiences in the “step-by-step” professional world help you take your art more seriously?

I was having a lot of inner dialogue. I'm a person that thinks about purpose all the time but felt I hadn’t found my “thing” yet. I kept switching from job to job all the time, because I was in tech. Normally you switch within a year, two years. I was just trying to find myself.

As you do after a break up— I was thinking through a lot of things. I have all this time now— wondering, how am I supposed to feel? I would journal, I would talk to people. I didn’t feel like I had been “wasting time” in tech. I was just doing it for the money. 

Meanwhile, I was seeing friends get C-level roles, and making X-amount of money and looking fulfilled. I had a conversation with another friend of mine who's a full time artist. I was in Vegas to watch UFC— but I made time to go talk to him specifically, because I was thinking a lot about art. It led to all the drawing and sharing.

Suddenly I was thinking about art all the time. Art history and theory classes I took in first year; 20 years later, I'm looking at those textbooks every day. So it’s a trip for me. I'm just trying to stay present and realizing: this is where I need to be, right now. I try not to dwell on the past. Like, “I could have done it this way”. I think everything happens at the right time.

How does learning now compare to studying art formally?

Funny enough, I didn't really care about studying art, back when I was doing a degree in it. I didn't know anything about art. I didn’t even have enough emotional intelligence at that time. I was so focused on, like, just becoming a person and having life experiences, coming out of the suburbs. 

So going back, collecting all these thoughts, is partly the legacy of continuing my dad's vision for what he wanted— but spinning off the way I want to. Because I feel at this age I have so much to tell. I actually learned from helping a good friend of mine achieve his own “dream” of pursuing art full-time. I could see it from the beginning, all the way to where he brought his career to fruition. It's a full circle moment. 

Going back to drawing was like: wow this inspires me, to get back to the kid I was. I think it's a calling. I just didn't realize it was part of my identity ‘til later. I had to go through so many different chapters to build that narrative. 

Stories are more impactful when a person sees both sides of the coin and then decides to be positive

There were a lot of motivational slogans up on the big wall during the gallery. What role do those play in your creative process or in the esthetic you’re going for? 

When I was creating that wall, I first thought, what do I do with all this blank canvas? Those are mandates I love to always tell myself.  Because for me, going through my childhood to teen years, I felt like an outcast. I think it's an important way to communicate with others that, human to human, being nice doesn't cost you anything.  You have to reinforce all these things to help push through.

So I wanted to share that with people coming through the exhibit— these memes, those slogans. It's like leaving an impression of kindness. Because one of the things I realized talking to friends was that, the more you give, the more comes back to you.

By contrast with all the kindness, your gallery also features a lot of anti-heroes. You've got Jules and Vince from Pulp Fiction, The Bride from Kill Bill, Rick Dalton from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. What do anti-heroes mean to you?

Anti-heroes give you a sense of perspective. It's not always their natural, chosen path, but somehow they become that person. I think there is, in all of us, a capacity to be anti-heroes. There's been chaos in my life too. Putting my parents through stress. Getting in trouble with the law. Stories are more impactful when a person sees both sides of the coin and then decides to be positive— follow the right path. So yeah, I think about accepting how your story develops. But also, asking yourself, what are your values?

For me, I always thought I’d be behind the scenes, helping other people fulfill their dreams. But once you find your purpose and your identity, you really want to hold on to that. You can become that person— the character you want to be.

What does it feel like to go from treating art in a self-taught, shits-and-giggles mentality into pursuing art as a way of life?

Going back to the fundamentals. There's this new level of self-pressure. I want to continue to develop— and this is the only thing where I've ever asked myself: Do I just do this for the sake of creating— or do I want to take it to a certain level?

In researching how to get better, there’s a lot of talk about the fundamentals you need to learn and honor. Of course, I could go on living and not ever look at that stuff. But I think being self-taught is also an Achilles heel. You might get a signature style without knowing why. In art, a lot of people break the rules. But I think they learn structure first and then go develop their own flavor. As a big fan of comic-book art I want to be able to bring that into my style.

So I want to learn a bit of anatomy and color theory, and what goes into the process of oil and acrylic painting— the medium, the blending, and shading. Those are all things I need to digest. I think about pro athletes: They wake up every day to train fundamentals so they can be the best. Doesn’t guarantee you’re going to be a Hall of Famer. But if you put that mindset in, you're going to get somewhere.

What are you trying to tap into for your next collection of art? 

I actually already have a title in mind for my next one locked in. I was talking to a friend of mine— she's a writer and my hero. I want to incorporate a lot more words and poetry into the art. 

But right now, it's more about how, through repetition, I’m finding momentum. This first gallery was me saying: Let’s throw everything at the wall, infusing layers of meaning. I want to create something that feels like a whole exhibit, a story, beginning to end. Just like being in the gym, you keep shooting and shooting. Once you feel like you can just drain a shot— feel the flow— you’ll know you can build upon it too.

Like most artists I’ve enjoyed talking to, Andrew values the subtle art of the digression. The long line between childhood escapes and grown-up dreams rarely runs straight— but in his case, it's shot through with character, colour, and sense of play that never left.  

From Me To You ran at The Combine, the first week of March. You can see more and purchase prints from Andrew’s work at m2ostudios.com