BIOGRAPHY
Ryan Stewart Bio via Uncle Daran: I was born on July 23rd, 1977 in San Jose California. I grew up all over the place. California, New Hampshire, California, New Hampshire, Iowa, Seattle and settled in Chicago….for now. I will let the art speak one version of my history. The other version is a pile of stories from those I’ve known. The good, the bad, the worst, the cursed, the gifted and people who have left us. I have no art education prior to picking up a brush. I am doing what I am supposed to do period. I began to paint the first week of June 2020. This is no place for my memoirs but during the COVID lockdown I got news of tragedy that hit particularly close to home. It really felt like my world was ending. I had no interest in anything I previously would resort to in the attempt to express myself. My music, sculpture building, writing….none of it helped. I couldn’t shake it and without feeling like I properly expressed how I was feeling I really needed to vent. I didn’t have the voice to match the heart and i am hurting when I’m hurt. I couldn’t say enough before my friends and families ears started bleeding. I got an urge to pick up a paint brush and paint a picture for someone. That someone was an artist, a wonderful person and is no longer with us. I have never set that brush down since. Everyday I paint. Everyday I have something to say, the paint does the speaking and it is my best voice. I do not paint with intention, it’s almost subconscious, my hands are automaticly creating something that my brain or eyes do not yet see. The brush brings forth its own as if it is the object of enchanted interpretation. I have done a great job at sparking my potential and expressing most accurately my version of the story. It’s kinda like “tell me what you fear and I’ll know why you’re here. Show me what you love and I’ll tell you who you are.” The paintings have become my diary. No filter, they come from that place right above the gut and right below the heart, Im pretty sure that’s where the soul is. I fight off my demons with paint. I trap them onto my canvas and stare back at them with amazement, feeling as though I tapped into the ether or something. as I learn more and more about myself by understanding my past I am currently transforming into a person who will not fear being lonely, depressed or unsung. I have become very hopeful these days and this new found passion has filled me with optimism. I have found pleasure in this ability to let out my pain, aggression and disdain for the man. If my suffering has breed this form of expression, it was worth it. Tyranny and all the other things that intend on ruining the spirit of freedom are a direct threat to my existence as a loving fellow human being.