Barry Lee is an illustrator, artist, writer and community facilitator based in Atlanta, Georgia. Lee is a creative problem solver that tells meaningful stories using a cast of colorful characters, always with a dash of mindfulness & intention. Their work ranges from editorial illustrations, children’s books to large scale public art installations.
Share
Freedom in the unknown.
Published about 1 month ago • 4 min read
Freedom in the unknown.
A practice of relinquishing control.
An illustration of three human figures outside on a hill surrounded by trees. The characters have stars on their bodies and stars that surround them, as they are observing the stars and catching them. Large hands are in the sky sprinkling stars as well. "Relinquishing control lets us shine more freely!" is handwritten on the illustration.
As an artist, I take my time to think, sketch, and make anything I do. Sometimes it takes a few weeks, and other times it can take a year or more. Then, I release the thing that I took intimate time with, out to the world. It is "mine" but it's also now the world's too. It's ripe for any reaction. I don't feel that this process is exclusive to the artist, I think this also is just a part of life. We have feelings, we take our time with them, and then we release them, whether that's telling someone we love them or committing to new opportunities or leaving something behind. Things may always start as "ours" but they ultimately will be the collective's once the words or actions emit from our bodies.
There are times we hold things forever, for fear of what the world will think. For the uncertainty of it all. That holding on creates stagnant energy though. As humans, we grow. Releasing helps us to pivot. It shows how much we've grown and what is to keep growing. I look at old pieces of art from 10 years ago, and I can nitpick them all day, while somebody else still deeply adores it. I can see the imperfections, the stressors, but they never can. They connect with it for what it is now, despite it being a part of a chapter that I have since moved on from.
I used to feel deep embarrassment about the chapters that are no long present but I see that was other's introduction to my path. Some continue to follow along with me and others trail off. I tried desperately for years to get people to hold on, but we all have lives that move us in different directions. Some seasons of connection last longer and some are shorter, but the fact that someone even connected to what I created in the first place, is a gift.
I finally got to see the new terrazzo art installation I designed for the Atlanta airport the other week and I was in awe by the amount of time, energy, thinking it took to get to the final piece. It's my largest-to-date piece of public art and it wasn't an easy process to get to the final. It's soon not going to be just "mine." Other's will be engaging with it, some will love it, and others won't. It reminds me of when I did an art show several years back, where I directed a performance piece.
The piece was called "Freak Show" and it was supposed to mimic the experience I have navigated when being out in public spaces with my facial differences. There was a large pink curtain situated in the back of the gallery space and people were asked to put their phones down to enter it. Behind the curtain was a stage where you would stand and see people laughing and staring at you. Once you were directed out of the installation, you were handed a card to write down your experience.
A photograph of a figure in line waiting to enter behind a large draped pink curtain.
Most of the experiences of people who engaged with the piece, "got it." There was one card though, that read "this was stupid." I noticed that it was written and then crossed out, to then reveal in the back that it took the viewer time to acknowledge the experience for what it was. I think that was my favorite response out of anyone's experience, because it showed the process of an open heart.
A photograph of the various response cards from the "Freak Show" performance piece being filled out with varying responses.
Not everyone is going to "get" what you do or bring to the world. Not everyone observes things through the lens of an open heart, this feels loud in our current climate, and yet we have to do our best to trust that some will. I think to relinquish control is to open our heart. To release something, a feeling, a word, a piece of ourselves out into the world is to relinquish full control. Part of my journey with being okay with this, has been to release the need to compare myself. I think what can get us into a spiral when it comes to anything that's vulnerable is seeing where others are at. There are certain milestones we are allegedly supposed to follow with age, but the more I understood how made up those milestones were, the more I began to free myself from comparison.
I try to move from comparison to compersion, the understanding that I can be happy for someone else's milestones despite me not achieving the same ones or having their accolades impact me. I believe too, that being Disabled has shown me the pace on which I can move when it comes what I consider "successes." I feel excited for the bridge to be out in the world, for other folks to see it, and for it to age alongside me in the ways that it will age.
Like anything that ages, there will be regrets, there will be moments where I had wished to had done something differently. I have to remember though, that the possibilities are endless with an open heart, and at least I tried being with an open heart in the first place.
You are receiving this email because you either subscribed to my newsletter on my website or my now defunct Substack. If you wish to no longer receive updates from me, feel free to Unsubscribe
Barry Lee is an illustrator, artist, writer and community facilitator based in Atlanta, Georgia. Lee is a creative problem solver that tells meaningful stories using a cast of colorful characters, always with a dash of mindfulness & intention. Their work ranges from editorial illustrations, children’s books to large scale public art installations.
Introducing Vo Illustrating my first children's book! 📖 An image of the book on my lap. The cover shows an illustration of a young white girl with red hair, Vo, wearing overalls with a flower on it, a yellow shirt and blue sneakers. She is sitting in a wheelchair that is pink and purple as her hands raise up. She is on top of a hill with a path, a tree and a house are in the background as she’s surrounded by a purple orb with stars floating around her. Below her in bold letters “When I Grow...
