Carson Samson

I recently had to write an artist’s statement. It has been 26 years since graduating from art school. And this is the first time I’ve written one. The journey back to seeing myself as a real artist is only beginning—I’ve struggled to identify as an artist, and still wrestle with it. This small exercise represents a big step in that journey.

I figured I would post my statement here as a way of documenting and further cementing it as a real thing.

I returned to drawing in 2014, fifteen years after graduating from art school. My father had just passed away suddenly. He loved birds, so I started drawing them.

Drawing became a way to grieve—a way to sit with anxiety and depression. I didn’t need to explain anything—I just needed to make marks. I use alcohol-based Copic markers and coloured pencils. They let me build layers, slow down, and be at peace.

Birds are a constant presence in my work. Because of my dad, but also because birds give me hope: despite lacking every human comfort, they still sing.

Maya Angelou once said, “A bird does not sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song.” My drawings serve as quiet prayers for those seeking peace, hope, or freedom—a chance to fly and a need to sing.