We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Anne Herrera . We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Anne below.

Anne, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.

I consider myself to be a “late bloomer” in life. When I was a child, I was afraid of many things, and when I entered adolescence, my fears got sprinkled with a little anger, drugs, and alcohol, transforming me into the life of the party and further stunting any personal growth I might have otherwise experienced. If a dream began to form in my mind, I would kill it in its infancy with the same repeating thoughts, “That’s not for me. That’s for other people.” In my late twenties, I cleaned up, determined to forget who I had been before. Throughout these phases in my life, I endured feelings of restraint, and mostly, at my own hand. I held myself back in many ways. I lacked the grit and courage necessary to pursue what I was curious about. The reasons for this deficit in my early and developing character are beyond my understanding and probably stem from a much younger version of myself which I no longer remember. Frankly, I am not interested in what those reasons are. I see this past version of myself as a dear old friend that I pity.

There is a famous phrase about “cracking under pressure.” To me, this means that the madness outside yourself meets the madness trapped inside yourself with equal force, causing the barrier between the two to break. In my mid thirties, I cracked…thank god. My new and destabilizing inability to ignore my inner voice resulted in some major life changes. I started taking enormous risks. Luckily, I spent many years studying and practicing various artforms by the time this happened; strengthening my technical skills in drawing and painting. I began to let go of all constraints, and create by tapping into my innermost self. I have now abandoned the figurative image and embraced pure expression. In my highly visual mind, I imagine oozing substances, seeping, weeping, and pouring out of the cracks in my façade. I have no fear of realizing these images into tangible works of art. Rather, I cannot stop. This is because I know that each piece will challenge me. I will encounter awkward moments in which I am uncomfortable or flat-out unhappy with the work. Whether this lasts five minutes or five days, I accept this part of my process, embrace it, and work through it. I take a risk every time I create a new piece in so many ways. I choose to confront and process the madness that occurs outside of myself, as well as the madness within. This makes me vulnerable with my Art, and even more so because I choose to document and share my process. I push myself to try something new with each piece, even if I don’t know how to physically execute the vision in my mind. The outcomes are deeply rewarding. Much of the time, I wish I had started to create this way sooner.

Obviously, all of this “late bloomer” rhetoric is nonsense. Many optimistic listeners, including myself, would say that I should be proud of my journey and that all my mistakes have led me to my recent enlightenment. When I look at my Art, I think they must be right.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

I am fortunate to be almost constantly surrounded by Art. I work as a high school Art teacher, and the fulfillment I enjoy at my job is priceless. As an artist, I have explored photography, ceramics, sculpture, collage, drawing and painting. While I have practiced and studied Art for many years, I am an emerging artist in the community.

My first solo exhibition titled, Cracked, opened in the summer of 2022. My work from this series can be described as abstract expressionism in mixed media. Through texture, color, shape, line, form, and space, my work embodies baffling human emotions such as fear, anxiety, anger, and love. They are the result of many years of repressing those emotions. Eventually, the truth is exposed. Cracked is the manifestation of my truth. To me, the pieces in this series are ugly and beautiful…. covered in rough scar-tissue, glossed over with gold, and wrapped in silk. They are full of conflict and controlled chaos. The process of making them exhausts me mentally, emotionally, and physically. I begin my process by writing on the canvas. I pour my deepest desires and secrets onto the blank space with the intention to cover it up. To hide it. I can say anything in that space, because I know it will never be seen. I experience the sweet sensation of release when I throw paint on the canvas with my hands or scrape plaster across the surface with a palette knife, and then the familiar feeling of restraint and the need to appear poised as I sculpt and sew lush fabrics through paper and plaster. Each piece has become an extension of myself. They are abstract representations of what is written beneath. I will never forget the way they came to me in my moment of truth. I closed my eyes, and saw velvet.

There are a few artists whose work has been imprinted in my mind. The more I looked at it, the more I wanted to create something like it. If you look closely, you will observe a nod to artists such as Nikki de Saint Phalle, Olga de Amaral, and Robert Rauschenberg. It is challenging to be unique as an Artist. Most things have been done before. While I have drawn much inspiration from the artists that I have studied, I am confident in saying that I am achieving uniqueness with my work. This is a standard that I will continue to hold myself to. Time will tell.

Is there mission driving your creative journey?

My mission is a simple one: Get my art seen in as many places as possible. I want to share my work and make connections with an audience. I want to get it out of my studio so that I can continue to make more of it. Nothing makes me more sad than a conversation that connects my ability to sell my work to my success as an artist. I have sold a small number of pieces, and I will risk sounding arrogant in saying that I often want them back and wish I had priced them significantly higher. This is likely normal for an emerging artist, but something tells me I will not change my mind about this very much in the future. I become attached to each piece because of the things I have processed or worked through in creating them. While I crave and appreciate a response from my audience or anyone viewing my work, I only make it for myself. Making Art helps me. I honestly don’t know what I would do with the madness inside of myself if I did not make it. I will consider myself a successful artist once I have created all the paintings in my mind, and then some more. I want to have a huge body of work that demonstrates growth and resilience.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

This may sound simple, but it is extremely rewarding to be able to imagine something in your mind and then physically create it. Especially if you feel you are imagining something that nobody else could. I am astonished to say that my cynical mind is put at ease after I process the deviance and dark thoughts that disorient my otherwise respectable demeanor. I can violently hurl them out into the world in an abstract way. Dare I say that sometimes, if the stars align, I am no longer plagued by these dark thoughts after the art is complete? It is true that I create Art for myself, but I am as vain as any other artist that documents their process on social media. The constant online reactions to my work are rewarding and generate motivation for me to continue. Beyond being intrinsically motivated and enjoying likes, views, and comments, I am deeply moved by the responses I have received while physically standing next to someone viewing my work. Two interactions stand out in my mind. The first occurred while looking at my first piece titled, Cracked. I was standing with my ex-husband. He leaned back as he looked at it, as if the painting would bite if he got too close. “It disturbs me,” he said. That will always be top of the list. Another stirring moment was with my first red piece, This Never Happened. I was standing with a man at my first solo exhibition. A stranger. He was positioned in front of the piece for a while, so I approached and introduced myself. “This reminds me of my wife’s recent miscarriage,” he said, his gaze uninterrupted. I don’t remember how I responded to him, but I hope I was compassionate and genuine. When I look at that piece now, this is all I see. I see his wife’s miscarriage, and my own. I think, at my core, those are the interactions I most crave. Let’s bring this dark shit to life. Help me to feel that I am not alone when you look at my work, and in turn, you may feel understood by the artist.

Contact Info:

• Website: Anneherreraart.com
• Instagram: anne_herrera_art