Meet Jackie Liu | Artist & Creator

We had the good fortune of connecting with Jackie Liu and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Jackie, what principle do you value most?
When things get tough, I always go back to gratitude. Appreciating what I already have – rather than what I desire – tempers the insatiable striving, makes failure more palatable, and allows me to live more mindfully by shifting my temporal focus from future to present. Gratitude also reminds me that my journey is not a solitary endeavor, that my successes are thanks to the support of countless people along the way. When I remember that I already have more than enough, I am able to approach the world through a lens of abundance, rather than scarcity – a foundation essential for germinating creativity.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I was an art kid from as early as I can remember. In pre-K, my friends would ask me to draw stars on their papers, because I was the only one in the class who knew how. I remember making the rounds, wielding my Crayola marker in my chubby four-year-old fingers like a celebrity doling out autographs. I drew voraciously throughout elementary and middle school, sketchbook always in tow. But in high school, art fell by the wayside as academics took priority. Art was merely a hobby, not a viable vocation. It was frivolous, indulgent, peripheral. It eroded into sand and slipped through the cracks of my fingers, and I let it happen.

It took a global pandemic to bring me back to art. In 2020, the year of unprecedented chaos, unprecedented time on my hands, and unprecedented use of the word “unprecedented,” I found myself painting again. Only then did I realize how deprived I had been of art. I created nonstop, ravenously, like I had finally found an oasis to quench my years of aching thirst. I made seventy-four paintings that year. I was making art for ten to twelve hours every day, and I loved every second of it. “I could do this for the rest of my life,” I said to myself.

And then I burned out.

After my nine-month art bender, I was suddenly seized by an overwhelming dread. Even thinking about painting filled me with anxiety. Putting brush to canvas no longer felt liberating, but contrived, painful. For the first time, art felt like labor. Friend turned to enemy. And that broke my heart.

Social media was a major culprit. A blessing and curse of Gen Z membership, I grew up on the internet. I’ve been sharing my art on Instagram since I was ten years old. In fifth grade, my friend had been encouraging me to join her on the platform, so eventually I caved to the peer pressure and downloaded the app on my sky blue iPhone 5c. The drawings hidden in the pages of my sketchbooks were now little squares in a digital grid, private creations now on public view. Like reading my diary out loud through a megaphone. In putting myself on display to the world, I let the world come in. I’ve been making art with other peoples’ expectations in mind for half my life. And I think I lost something there.

This pressure of creating for an audience, of being scrutinized by others, only intensified in 2020. Bored in quarantine, I started a TikTok account, purely as a joke. I started posting videos of my creative process for my meager handful of followers, all of whom were my friends. But then, for some inexplicable reason, my followers grew. And grew, and grew, and grew. Suddenly, there were millions of people watching me paint and hearing me speak. Which was crazy and wonderful and surreal…but it was overwhelming. As a seventeen-year-old high schooler, it was a lot to handle. The crushing weight of external expectations and performance analytics and the ever-increasing standards I set for myself ultimately paralyzed me.

But on the other hand, I owe everything to social media. Thanks to the far-reaching currents of TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube, I’ve been able to realize my ultimate aspiration: to make things that are meaningful to other people. To provoke thought, provide solace, foster communion. Young students from South Africa to Portugal to Uganda have done research projects on my art. I’ve gotten messages from tweenagers to grandmas saying I inspired them to paint again or made them feel less alone. I’ve sold artwork to people in Switzerland, Australia, Indonesia, Germany. Social media has carried me around the world.

So lately, I’ve been trying to find balance. My relationship with art has been long, rocky, and not always healthy. But I’m trying to delineate boundaries and find sustainability, because I’m in it for the long-haul. I want this relationship to be for life.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
LA is so vibrant with cultural richness. There are so many incredible places for art lovers to visit, like the LACMA, The Broad, MOCA, Watts Towers, LA Plaza de Cultura y Artes, Crenshaw Dairy Mart, and so much more.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
Speaking of gratitude, I feel it always in my personal relationships. I am so beyond fortunate to have the most compassionate, supportive, and loving friends, mentors, and partner. These people fill my life with the joy that fuels me through each day.

Website: https://jackieliuart.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jackieliuart/

Youtube: https://youtube.com/@jackieliuart

Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@jackieliuart