Art has undoubtedly been an essential part of my life and my identity. When I was a little girl, I often came up with stories about superheroes, princesses and talking animals. With crayons and sheets of paper, I made these stories come to life. When my uncle, a freelance artist, came across my sketchbooks and stories, he decided to let me tag along to his art studio. It was in Uncle Tây’s studio that I developed a keen interest in art. I remember seeing a version of Vermeer’s realistic The Girl with a Pearl Earrings next to Pollock’s abstract Lavender Mist and wondering how art can be so diverse, unique and personal.
As I toured around the space, one piece of artwork, which was neither abstract or realistic, caught my attention. It was Salvador Dali’s surrealistic Persistence of Memory. Looking at this painting with the eyes of the nine year-old me was a unique experience. I recall asking my uncle why someone left a pomegranate on the table, why a duck was left dying in the middle of the desert, and why pizzas were made to look like clocks. Instead of giving me answers, Uncle Tây let out a big grin and told me that I can take the painting home.