Lately, I’ve been asking myself a question that I think every artist wrestles with at some point:
What kind of artist do I want to be?
I know the easy answer. I’m an acrylic landscape painter. I love painting outdoors. I love bold colors, loose brushstrokes, and the challenge of capturing a place before the light changes.
But is that all I want to be?
Do I want to paint only Western landscapes? Do I want to paint lighthouses for the rest of my life? Should I stick to one subject because it’s what people expect from me?
The more I think about it, the more I realize my answer is simple.
I just want to be me.
I don’t want my creativity to fit neatly into a category. I don’t want to chase a label because it’s easier to market or because someone says that’s what collectors buy. I don’t want to spend my career wondering what I should paint instead of listening to what excites me.
Some days that inspiration might be a mountain in Wyoming. Other days it’s an old brick building, a portrait, a fly fisherman standing in a river, or a quiet street at sunrise. Maybe it’s a lighthouse. Maybe it isn’t.
The subject isn’t what matters most.
The feeling is.
I want the freedom to paint what inspires me, when it inspires me, and in a way that feels authentic to who I am. I want to experiment with color. I want to play with texture. I want to make mistakes, discover new techniques, and keep growing without worrying whether my work fits into someone else’s definition of what my art should look like.
Artists are often asked, “What’s your specialty?”
For a long time, I thought I needed a better answer. Something more specific. Something that fit nicely into a sentence.
Now I think I do have an answer.
I specialize in being me.
That doesn’t mean I paint everything. It means I paint what genuinely moves me. It means I’m not interested in becoming a factory that repeats the same painting over and over because it’s safe.
I’d rather build a body of work that reflects my curiosity, my experiences, and the places and moments that stop me in my tracks.
Maybe that means my portfolio won’t fit into one perfect category.
I’m okay with that.
Because at the end of the day, I don’t want people to look at my work and think, “That’s a Western artist,” or “That’s the lighthouse guy.”
I want them to look at my paintings and simply say,
“That’s a Manny.”
And I think that’s the kind of artist I’ve been trying to become all along.
