We recently connected with Matthew Nguyen and have shared our conversation below.

Matthew, appreciate you joining us today. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?

To say that I approach all my work with meaning sounds trite, but I typically need to have some sort of inspiration, story, context, or connection in order to start a new project – it keeps me honest and ready. This is the case before I start any project. I gather my facts and meditate to search for inspiration and begin visualizing, oftentimes weeks before I begin. Sometimes it’s an instant download, other times I struggle, but inevitably the work reveals itself to me.

Incorporating meaning is particularly important when working on a commission, which for me is a personal and trusting process. While I can pull inspiration from almost anywhere, understanding the space it will live in and getting a chance to speak with the people who will live with the artwork are important elements to the process.

One of the first experiences I had with this was a commission for a woman who put her full faith and trust in me (always very humbling), as she wanted the artwork to represent a new stage in her life following a divorce. It was symbolic – it was artwork just for her and her space only, meant to create moments of joy. While making it, the piece came to represent independence, and mostly a celebration of designing our own lives.

Matthew, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I am an abstract painter based in the Chicagoland area. I was called to paint during the pandemic after having created multiple pieces of artwork in my head at night while trying to sleep. The picture was clear: inch by inch on canvas, I knew exactly what I wanted but had never picked up a paintbrush. These visions were imaginative yet hauntingly real, as if they had already been made or were somehow nudging me to make them.

We were on the cusp of getting back to normal after I had a challenging fall and winter. One day I crawled out of bed and left myself with two questions: who do I want to be when this is over, and how could the challenges of the pandemic unimaginably serve me?

The only thing that felt sure was that I wanted to be more creative when it all ends. To my surprise, by the time I lured (and pushed) myself into painting, within a few months my new art calendar began to fill up. You could call it escapism, opportunity, or luck, but I’ve always been one to create. My first passion was music, followed by black and white photography and developing film, then it became anything related to design. Now I’m using paint and mixed mediums intuitively as a tactile expression of where I find inspiration – the natural world, weathered objects, human consciousness, and various forms of connection.

I was raised in the far west Chicago suburbs and am first-generation Vietnamese. My father was a war refugee, my mother is a social worker and runs a nonprofit. I studied Art Management at Columbia College and later attended The Chicago School of Professional Psychology. I have worked in design showrooms for the last twelve years and my greatest works of art are my miracle twin girls, Frances and Juniper.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

I’ve learned that rewards cannot be happenstance. They require challenge and learning. With that, the most rewarding aspect of making art is making art in and of itself. Of course, completing a piece is extremely satisfying too (that inevitable decision of declaring it ‘done’), especially if someone else finds value in it.

To tap into that further, there really is a unique experience of manifesting a tangible representation of what was once merely an idea, a visual in the mind. In my experience, the process of getting there oftentimes requires a complete surrender – a radical acceptance of what can be a fluid process that you may or may not have signed up for (i.e. the time I worked for hours on a huge canvas and realized days later that I hated the colors and that my entire approach was garbage). But, I have to accept it all – the good, the bad, and the ugly – then bring it back into the work. As long as I stay focused on the end result, that’s what matters. I never give up and I’ve never started over.

I don’t believe any one thing that happens during the process is accidental, and I have come to adopt the idea that magic occurs through the unexpected, even if it takes a little elbow grease. When I think about the moments or stages of a piece where I second guess, become frustrated, or prescribe to limiting thoughts, in the end, it all ends up becoming a characterization of the finished piece. It’s these challenges that make it even more rewarding in the end, standing back for a wide angle look, satisfied with the finished product.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

Yes, and I’d like to include creatives as well as non-creatives in this, because both have assumed that I plan to leave my job to pursue a full-time career in art. I do not, and the reason is simple: I love my job and I love making art.

I think the assumption is rooted in the same dualistic mindset that is present in society as a whole; the notion that opposing ideas are mutually exclusive and there is no middle. Even late in the day when the sun is still up, the moon appears, and vice versa. There’s a period of time when the day shifts to night and night to day, where both are present. This must be my middle ground.

I have challenged myself with this over and over again, and have adopted a way to maintain balance:

We have a set period of time in a day, in a week, in a month, and it must be distributed among various activities in life. Meanwhile, we have limited attention spans and low energy during parts of each day. So, I began to compartmentalize my life (yes, I’m a December Capricorn) by creating three buckets where I should allocate most of my time and energy, in the places where I find joy. After all, how you spend your time is representative of what matters the most. The buckets are my family, my artwork, and work. Anything that falls outside of these areas, I cannot prioritize in any given day (with exception).

With this, I’ve come to the conclusion that, YES, we CAN have it all, it’s solely dependent on how we define “all”. Prioritizing these three aspects of life means that I don’t watch TV, I also cut down drinking alcohol considerably in the last year and a half, and my social life is, well, small and selective. It’s a give-and-take approach and I am grateful for it.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.mknartist.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/matt_k_nguyen.art