Meet Christine Evans | Artist & Therapist

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

Hi Christine, any advice for those thinking about whether to keep going or to give up?

Why is the starving artist normalized? Western society fosters a hustle culture; this urgency to make money. It is terrifying to go against what society normalizes and comforts. There’s a sense of false hope when told to pursue the career of your dreams and do what makes you happy when, for example, capitalism does not prioritize the arts. Why does the starving artist pursue something that is not financially rewarding? Artistry is not a career; it is a way of navigating and functioning in life, and it took putting art on the back burner for me to realize the gift and honor it is to be an artist.

Your twenties are defined by change, and my coming-of-age is no exception. Choosing a major for my bachelor’s was easy because opportunity and talent made my path evident—I would pursue the fine arts. As any art student quickly learns, it’s easier said than done. Pursuing anything in liberal arts comes with the price of having limited financial stability; I learned doing what makes you happy comes at the price of comfort. You can be an artist if you have other income accompanying your artistry—hence, many contemporary artists are professors. Luckily, I have always been fascinated with biology, so I applied for a dual degree to become a biomedical illustrator. My neurobiology classes helped me realize my passions lay specifically within mental health and psychology. Thus, I did what anyone in our society would do: I compromised my truth to fit society’s standard for comfort. I transitioned into art therapy and shifted my graduate program toward psychology. I decided to segregate my passions, which, admittedly, felt like I was giving up.

While working alongside an art therapist, I learned that my brain was not molded in fluid artistic expression but lives in art history, theory, and practice. Focusing on a master’s to become a therapist to satisfy financial comfort felt like a forfeit–a compromise of my truth and my desires. However, let’s reframe it into a lesson: taking a step back and gaining perspective is not giving up. Exploring and reassessing your career IS doing what makes you happy. Is there crippling anxiety pursuing something different—without a doubt. Does it make it exponentially more rewarding—absolutely.

So, how do we know whether to keep going or give up? The answer lies within intuition. Our mind and body can do much more than we can fathom. Society conditioned us to distrust our gut. To bandwagon and fall into groupthink. Spoiler alert: it’s much easier to govern a body of people when everyone believes what they are told and functions under the same ideas. We learn and grow far more amid challenges than succumbing to complacency. I empower you to listen to your intuition and to embrace uncomfortability. Listening to my intuition looked like leaning on my cornerstone: my art, which means I may not have the comfiest lifestyle. However, it does mean I will be living out my truth, trusting my intuition. Of course, everyone’s comfort looks different. We are all products of nature and nurture that prepare us for life’s obstacles, but no one is more prepared than you to face those obstacles. You are the expert in your existence; only you can determine whether to persist or change your path.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.

Artistry takes a profoundly responsible role in building perception; it is visual empathy. Artists create space for exploration, discussion, and understanding of what they believe needs more attention. I’ve found my devout responsibility in unpacking groupthink’s role in society, our brains’ ability to go so far as to find comfort in labeling anything “othered” as abnormal.

The latest theme explored within my practice is the mind’s search for solitude. I am studying psychology not only for its interest but also for its clarity in my life-long relationship with mental health. I am participating in my own therapy to become a better therapist, advocate, and artist. I am reacquainting myself with art for its therapeutic and explorative expression, finding healing catharsis in my mind’s deepest and darkest parts, curiously exploring my depression, and discovering dissociation’s purpose in my life. Generally, dissociation’s role is to act as your brain’s natural defense against a perceived threat or potential trauma. Personally, it’s a highly vulnerable defense mechanism, numbing my senses by internalizing all thoughts, emotions, and reactions to survive. The canvas is where my brain and body engage in catharsis to reprocess past experiences.

Through deep, dark texture and figurative fragmentation, my goal is to dismantle mental health politics by abstracting psychological experiences through the empowerment of vulnerability, finding comfort in the unknown, and exploring beauty in the grotesque. Repurposing materials on a large scale to capture mental health’s overwhelming oblivion in conjunction with precise details redefines mental health’s profuse stigmas of deviance, danger, and dysfunction into complex, nuanced, and captivating. The audience is drawn in, physically changing their perspective from something seen as shocking and unsettling from afar to becoming intimate with the canvas, refocusing the viewer toward the delicate precision and transformation of materials. As a result, emotive abstraction from layered and scraped impasto turns the canvas into a topographical landscape of peaks and valleys, symbolizing how people build themselves up when broken down amidst unwavering emotional turmoil. Working alongside emotive abstraction, the canvas holds space for psychological exploration by representing intangible experiences within mental health through the figure. There is immense beauty within the grotesque, what is unknown, the unfamiliar, and the abnormal, and my works invite you to sit within that discomfort. Just as the therapist creates a safe space for the client to explore their psyche, the artist creates a safe space for the viewer to gaze upon and wander into the “other.”

Any places to eat or things to do that you can share with our readers? If they have a friend visiting town, what are some spots they could take them to?
If you’re starting your day early, check out Calic Bagel in Korea town. What better way to start your LA day than with an innovative twist to the classic bagel with cream cheese and friendly staff? You would be more than satisfied with this stop alone. If you are there for a good time and a long time, you will get lost when exploring LA museums and galleries. Time is a construct when confronted by the architecture, interior design, landscaping, and global artistry at the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens in Pasadena. Although it is opposite to California’s sunny beaches, you’re guaranteed an experience to remember with its various creative cultures. There will always be something new waiting for your exploration. To continue your venture outdoors, check out Shakespeare in the Park at Griffith Park. The scene is set upon a grass field where you can recline on a blanket, perhaps enjoying a picnic vis-à-vis charcuterie paired with vino, gazing upon dramatization of Shakespearean poetry. These recommendations are only the tip of the iceberg, so I encourage you to check out other Shoutout LA interviews to see more of LA’s must-see sites.

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?

Never have I been in awe and received such unconditional support as from fellow artists, scholars, and nostalgic adventurers. I find inspiration throughout my community and psychological research–exposing myself to different ways of living and thinking to unpack why we do what we do.

In this season of life, I’ve found inspiration in whatever I’ve found healing: embracing my femininity and inner child. For so long, I denied my femininity and resided in my masculinity to deter others from approaching me. I believed strength could only be found in looking more mature and masculine, in fear that I’d be perceived as weak if I let my girly inner child escape. Turns out, I’m a goofball with a dark side–it’s the reason why I can build rapport with teens struggling with their mental health. It turns out I’m not the only woman living in fear–it’s the reason my therapeutic focus is helping women who are healing from childhood trauma.

My community is teaching me to embrace my femininity, even when my trauma relies on my toxic masculinity for protection. I find inspiration in the strong women around me, who choose to express themselves in their full feminine embodiment despite the male gaze. I find joy, peace, and rest in my feminine, expressing myself through cooking, cleaning, dancing, craft, and creativity. I find inspiration in all realms of the arts: the delicate strength behind black female R&B artists, the cinematic work behind fashion designers like Robert Wun and Iris Van Herpen, and choreographers and dancers breaking boundaries of physical expression. A few artists I’d like to highlight include my undergrad 2D professor, Sara Frantz (@sarajfrantz), my high school friend and talented cinematographer, Jess Taylor (@jessejedi), and my partner Kyle (@kyle_harmina), who endlessly encourages and walks beside me in our exploration of artistry.

Website: https://cmevans-art-design.com

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