So here we are. I'm at home, as I'm sure many of you are, too. And we've all begun to understand how our relationship with ourselves, with each other and the spaces we exist in can deeply impact our sense of identity and purpose. So much has dramatically changed. There's a sense of distance now unlike ever before.
Demak, biz shu yerdamiz. Men uydaman, aminmanki, sizlarning ko'pchiligingiz ham uydasiz. Biz hammamiz tushunishni boshladik qanday qilib bir-birimizga bo'lgan aloqalarimiz va biz yashaydigan joylar o'ziga xoslik hissimiz va maqsadimizga qanchalik ta'sir qilishini. Ko'p narsa keskin o'zgardi. Hozirda har qachongidan ko'ra biz bir-birimizdan uzoqmiz.
But what if I told you that you could find a way from your heart to your hand to reconnect again, and that through this practice and embracing this cause, I could help you to recalibrate your mind so that you could explore this new reality with joy, enthusiasm, imagination and hope? And all it would take is a simple pen. To get you there, let's go back to the beginning.
Lekin men sizga aytsam yuragingizdan qo'lingizgacha bo'lgan yo'lni topa olasiz qayta bog'lanish uchun. Bu esa amaliyot orqali bo'ladi, borliqni qabul qilgan holda. Sizga o'y-xayolingizni qayta ishga tushirishga yordam beraman bu yangi reallikni zavq, ishtiyoq, tasavvur va umid bilan qaytadan kashf qilishga. Buning uchun bor yog'i qalam kerak, sizga yo'l ko'rsatish uchun. Boshidan boshlasam,
As a kid growing up in a council estate in Southeast London, I was an outsider. I'm the oldest of six kids, and all of my siblings look very English: blond hair, blue eyes, very cute. And then there was me: half Nigerian, brown, with an Afro. So what happens when you look different and you feel different, and in many ways, start to think differently from everyone and everything around you? How do you find your way out of a dark, racist, homophobic and very lonely place?
Bolaligim janubiy Londondagi nohiyada o'tgan. Men boshqacha edim. Olti farzandning to'ng'ichi edim, barchalarini qiyofasi haqiqiy inglizcha edi: malla soch, ko'k ko'zlar, juda yoqimli. Buyoqda esa men: yarim nigeriyalik, jigarrang, va jingalak sochli. Agar boshqacha ko'rinsangiz nima bo'ladi? Boshqacha his qilsangiz, ko'plab hollarda, boshqacha o'ylasangiz, atrofdagi hammadan ajralib tursangiz. Qanday qilib qorong'ulik, irqchillik, gomofoblik, yolg'izlikdan chiqib, o'z yo'lingizni topishingiz mumkin?
This is where the pen comes in. I started to draw. So as you can see, I've got this pen, and it knows where it's going. And I've learned very well how to follow it. And the first thing I did is I followed this line, and I drew myself out of a culture that was only telling me what I couldn't do. I trusted my pen, and it led me to Central Saint Martin's, a very fancy art school in London, where I graduated top of my year. However, I soon realized there wasn't a place for me in London, because whether you wish to believe it or not, England is still a country that is rooted and functions within the class system. And as a young, black, gay female artist from a working-class family, I didn't stand a chance.
Shu joyida qalam yordamga keladi. Men chizishni boshladim. Ko'rib turganingizdek, menda bu qalam bor va u o'z manzilini biladi. Men esa unga qanday ergashishni juda yaxshi bilaman. Birinchi qilgan ishim, chiziq ortidan ergashdim, va men o'zimni menga ishonmagan ushbu madaniyatdan xalos qildim. Men qalamimga ishondim va u meni Sentral Saint Martinz ga yetakladi, Londondagi ajoyib san'at maktabi. va ayni yoshlik chog'imda bitirdim. Lekin, shuni angladimki men uchun Londonda joy yo'q edi, chunki, xoh ishoning, xoh ishonmang Angliya haligacha sinf tizimi chuqur ildiz otgan mamlakatdir. Ishchi oiladan bo'lgan, yosh, qora tanli, gey rassom ayol sifatida, Menda imkoniyat yo'q edi.
So I left London and I moved to Japan, where I didn't experience people asking me where I was really from. I was just another gaijin, which, ironically, means "outsider." I was immersed in a culture that honors both making and craft, where people perfect their craft over generations. It's a culture that masters both time and space, so that artists can truly create with freedom. And what I discovered was a place I wasn't angry with. Tokyo hadn't wronged me in any way. I could no longer create with anger or out of pain. I had to bravely allow myself to create from a different place. And what I found is this incredible tool transcended a line on paper. I found this thing that connected my head to my heart and my hand to everything.
Shuning uchun men Londonni tark etib, Yaponiyaga yo'l oldim. U yerda meni qayerdan ekanligimning ahamiyati yo'q edi. Men shunchaki bir "gaijin" edim, u "boshqacha" degan ma'noni bildiradi. Odamlar yaratuvchanlik va hunarni e'zozlaydigan madaniyatga singib ketdim. U yerda odamlar hunarini avlodlar davomida sayqallashtiradi. Bu madaniyat ham joyning, ham vaqtning qadriga yetadi, shuning uchun rassomlar erkinlik bilan ijod qila olishadi. Shu tarzda men bir joyni kashf qildim. Tokioda umuman yomonlik ko'rmadim. ijod qilish uchun g'azab yoki og'riq endi menda yo'q edi. Men o'zimga boshqa joydan ijod qilishga izn berdim va men ushbu ajoyib narsani topdim qog'ozdagi chiziqlardan chiqib ketishni. Men shu narsani topdim va u boshimni yuragimga, qo'limni esa hamma narsaga bog'ladi.
I could see the world in new ways. I found connections in corners and the solutions to problems I never knew existed. It's like the world with all its positive and negative spaces could now be seen. And just by seeing it, there was no longer any fear. It's like my pen was a flashlight, and the unknown was still there, but it wasn't scary.
Men dunyoni o'zgacha nazar bilan ko'ra boshladim. Men burchaklarda bog'liqlikni topdim va o'zim oldin bilmagan muammolarga yechimlar topdim. bu xuddi shunday dunyoki, uning oq-qorasini shundoq ko'rish mumkin. Shunday ekan, boshqa qo'rquv qolmadi. Mening qalamim huddi fonusdek va ko'plab narsalar hali noma'lum edi, biroq bu qo'rqinchli emasdi.
After five years of living in Japan and focusing on my craft, I felt like I needed a new challenge. So I moved to New York, because that's what you do as an artist, right? You move to the greatest city in the world that has the ability to make you feel completely and utterly invisible. This is when I began to truly ask myself, "Who are you?" I would wake up in the morning, and before I began my day, I would meditate on this. And with this question in mind, I kept drawing. I followed the line. I let it lead the way. The process of picking up a pen, something everyone has access to, the act of giving myself permission to let go of all thoughts, all fears, insecurities -- anything that would get in the way of allowing myself to be completely me -- that became my way of experiencing freedom.
Besh yil Yaponiyada yashab, hunarimni rivojlantirganimdan keyin, Menga endi yangi cho'qqilar kerak edi, Keyin Nyu-Yorkka ketdim, chunki rassom sifatida shunday qilish kerak edi, Dunyoning eng zo'r shahriga ko'chish, shunga imkon berardiki siz o'zingizni butunlay ko'rinmasdek his qilasiz. Mana shu payt men o'zimdan so'ray boshladim, "Sen kimsan o'zi?" Tongda uyg'onib, kunimni boshlashdan oldin, Shu haqida chuqur o'ylardim. Shu hayol bilan chizishni davom ettirdim. Men chiziq ortidan ergashdim va qalamim yo'l boshladi. Qalamni olishga hammaning imkoni bor. Men shunchaki o'zimni bo'sh qo'yardim, barcha o'y-xayol, qo'rquv, xatarlardan halos etib. Yo'limda uchragan har narsa, o'zligimga halaqit beradigan narsalar o'ziga xos erkinlikni his qilishimimga olib keldi.
When I got to New York, I didn't want to play by the rules of the art world. I continued my practice as an outsider. I kept drawing. Curiosity became the ink for my pen, and I continued to dive deeper. Over time, I began to create a bold, confident space for myself, a space that was all my own. Initially, it was just my bedroom. But that bedroom ended up in "The New York Times," and suddenly, I was being seen and known for this world I had created. Since then, I've created and collaborated with some of the most unique artists, institutions and spaces, from the screens of Times Square, to the New York City Ballet for their incredible artist series, where I interviewed a number of dancers. Their stories and words became the foundation of over 30 drawings and artworks, which took over the promenade walls, windows and floors.
Nyu-Yorkka kelganimda, Men san'at qoidalariga rioya qilishni istamadim. Men o'zimning boshqacha bo'lgan san'atimni davom ettirdim va chizishda davom etdim. Qiziquvchanlik qalamim uchun siyoh bo'ldi va men chuqurroq shug'ullana boshladim. Vaqt o'tib, o'zimga yaxshigina, ishonchli bo'sh joy yaratdim, faqat meniki bo'lgan bo'sh joy. Boshida, bu shunchaki yotoqxonam edi. Ammo o'sha yotoqxonam. "Nyu-York Tayms" da tugadi va kutilmaganda meni taniy boshlashdi o'zim yaratgan dunyo uchun. O'shandan beri, eng atoqli rassomlar bilan hamkorlik qilib, ijod qildim, institutlar bilan ham, Tayms Skverdagi ekranlardan tortib, Nyu-York shahri Baletigacha, rassomchilik seriyalarida qatnashdim. U yerda men bir qator raqqoslar bilan gaplshdim. Ularning so'zlari va hikoyalari asos bo'lib xizmat qildi 30 dan ortiq chizmalar va san'at asarlari uchun, Ular tomosha devorlari, derazalar va pollarni qoplagan edi,
For a long time, I wanted to create a space for contemplation and poetry. And in 2019, I was given the opportunity to do just that by the Trust of Governor's Island. They provided me with the perfect canvas in the form of a former military chapel. Meet "The May Room." With drawings on the exterior inspired by the history of the island, you walk inside, you take your shoes off, and there's a drawing on the floor in the form of a maze that brings you back to you. It's an invitation to become calm. And this allows you to see phrases on the wall. "May you be wise." "May you sleep soundly at night." "May we save trees." "May you," "may you," "may we." And these phrases seem like they're rising from you or falling into you.
Uzoq vaqt davomida, Men o'y-xayol va she'riyat uchun joy yaratishni xohladim. 2019-yilda esa, Menga shunday qilishga imkon berildi, "Trast of Gavernors Ayland" tomonidan. Ular menga mukammal joy berishdi, sobiq harbiy ibodatxona ko'rinishidagi. "May oyi uyi" bilan tanishing. Tashqi tarafdagi rasmlar "Ayland" tarixidan ilhomlanib chizilgan. Siz ichkariga kirib, oyog'ingizni yechasiz va polda labirinit shaklidagi rasmni ko'rasiz, u sizni o'zingizga olib boradi. Bu tinchlanishga bo'lgan chaqiriqdir va shu tarzda siz devorda so'zlarni ko'rinshingiz mumkin. "Donishmand bo'ling." "Kechasi tinch uxlang." "Daraxtlarni asraymiz." "Siz... ." "Siz... ."Biz... . " Bu so'zlar xuddi sizdan chiqayotgandek yoki sizga singib ketayotgandek.
I've let my lines become much like a language, a language that has unfolded much like life. And when there has been silence, I've sought connection through conversation, asking questions to push through the discomfort. Drawing has taught me how to create my own rules. It has taught me to open my eyes to see not only what is, but what can be. And where there are broken systems, we can create new ones that actually function and benefit all, instead of just a select few.
Men chizgan chizig'imga til bo'lishiga imkon berdim, xuddi hayot kabi ochilgan tilga o'xshab. Sukunat yuzaga kelganda, Men suhbatdan bog'liqlik izladim, Noqulaylikni yo'qotish uchun, savollar so'ragan holda. Chizish menga o'z qoidalarimni yaratishni o'rgatdi. u meni ko'zimni ochdi, nafaqat bor narsalarni ko'rishni, balki nima bo'laolishini ham va darz ketgan tizimlar bo'lsa, biz yangilarini yaratamiz, ish beradigan va hammaga foydasi tegadiganini, ozchilikdan tanlagandan ko'ra.
Drawing has taught me how to fully engage with the world. And what I've come to realize through this language of lines is not the importance of being seen, but rather the gift of seeing that we give to others and how true freedom is the ability to see. And I don't mean that literally, because sight is only one way in which one can see. But what I mean is to experience the world in its entirety, maybe even more so during the most challenging moments like the one we face today.
Chizish menga dunyo bilan qanday aloqa qilishni o'rgatdi va chizgan chiziqlarimni tilidan shuni angladimki, eng muhumi tanilishda emas, balki biz boshqalarga nima bera olishimzda va erkinlik orqali ko'ra olish imkonida. Bu to'g'ridan-to'g'ri ma'nodamas, Chunki ko'z bila ko'rish, ko'rishning bir tomonidir. Aytmoqchi bo'lganim, dunyoni to'laligicha tajribada his qilishdir, yoki, yanada qiyin sinovlar paytida, xuddi biz bugun duch kelgan sinovdagidek.
I'm Shantell Martin. I draw. And I invite you to pick up a pen and see where it takes you.
Men Shantell Martinman. Men rasm chizaman va men sizni qalam tutishga chaqiraman. U sizni qayerga yetaklashini ko'ring.
(Music)
(Musiqa)