myra_sawyer

Myra Sawyer: The Pain in the Engine

I've always been told that there is beauty in chaos. I am chaos.

I began my journey in the stitches of a broken home—quite literally. My childhood was decorated with water stained walls, counting every seeping crack and peeling paint in the ceiling, mentally, like stars. My earliest socialization was paved in poverty. While many learned about decay, I learned about possibility.

At 16, I was sleeping on a borrowed studio bed, eating ramen, and generally only left the bed for my 3D rendering classes. I was working small hours in a laundromat, paying bills, and finding a way to eat out of borrowed pots and pans, and I watched a lot of Netflix. I was officially alone, and free, and now I was about to have to fight through the obstacles ahead. I was placing pixels on a screen, and it felt like a type of rebellion every time. I was placing pixels on a screen, and every render felt like a middle finger to the status quo. I WAS COMING.

And then there was the fire. (There's always a fire isn't there?) I lost my hard drive. Years of work, went up in smoke. TALKS. I dove hard and rose from the ashes, chiselling away my mourns and celebrations in a material that was sleek, cold, and untouchable. I told stories with my visuals. Spaces that hummed, with a hunger of person, that knows this place, whose life had revolved around darkness, who had learned that this darkness was meant to be thrived.

My art is not for the faint of heart. It is for the person, that knows the beauty is a refined pain.

Come a little closer. Let me show you how deep the foundations go. 🔥🖤