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Time for Living
Year: 2023
Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 24 × 12 inches
Artist: Andre Alsup
Inspiration: Alcohol, identity, self-reflection, emotional confusion, and rediscovering what it means to live.
There comes a point in life when you look at yourself and wonder how you became the person staring back at you.
I painted Time for Living in 2023 during a period when I was drinking a lot. At the time, I wasn't necessarily thinking about the long-term consequences or how much my habits were affecting the way I viewed myself. I was just living, or at least that's what I told myself.
But there's a difference between being alive and actually living.
This painting is a collection of strange faces, distorted expressions, scattered thoughts, and little pieces of myself that I couldn't quite put together. There's no perfect composition or obvious storyline. Everything feels disconnected, almost like a bunch of thoughts happening at once. And honestly, that's pretty close to how my mind felt at the time.
One of the most important details is a small self-portrait accompanied by the words:
“I don't recognize the person I have become.”
That sentence carries more weight than anything else in the painting.
It's a strange feeling to realize that you've changed into someone you never intended to become. Not necessarily a bad person, but someone who feels unfamiliar. Someone whose habits, decisions, and behavior don't quite match the person they believe themselves to be.
Drinking can be funny until it isn't. It can start as a way to socialize, relax, celebrate, or escape from whatever is going on in your head. But somewhere along the way, it can become something you rely on without even realizing it.
I think that's part of what I was trying to process when I created this piece.
The faces throughout the painting are exaggerated, awkward, and sometimes completely ridiculous. Some look confused, some look angry, some look peaceful, and others seem to be staring into absolutely nothing. There's even a little humor scattered throughout because, regardless of how difficult things get, I've always had a tendency to find something absurd in the middle of it all.
I didn't want this painting to look polished or perfectly organized. I wanted it to feel spontaneous, almost like doodling in a notebook while trying to figure out what's going on inside your own head.
The mostly black-and-white composition reflects that simplicity. There's very little color, very little distraction, and nowhere for the expressions to hide. The title stands out in bold letters, almost like a reminder that I needed to hear.
Time for Living.
Not time for drinking my problems away. Not time for pretending everything was fine. Not time for becoming someone I didn't recognize.
Time to actually experience life.
What's interesting to me about this painting is that it doesn't offer a solution. It doesn't end with some grand realization that everything is going to be okay. It's simply a snapshot of a moment when I was becoming aware that something needed to change.
And I think there's something important about documenting those moments, even when they're uncomfortable.
Art doesn't always have to represent who we want to be. Sometimes it needs to show who we were, what we were struggling with, and the thoughts we weren't comfortable saying out loud.
Looking back, I see this painting as both a confession and a reminder. A confession that I wasn't entirely happy with the person I was becoming, and a reminder that recognizing that feeling can be the beginning of something different.
Life is strange, messy, confusing, funny, and occasionally pretty fucking exhausting.
But we only get so much of it.
And at some point, you have to stop simply existing and make time for living.
Year: 2023
Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 24 × 12 inches
Artist: Andre Alsup
Inspiration: Alcohol, identity, self-reflection, emotional confusion, and rediscovering what it means to live.
There comes a point in life when you look at yourself and wonder how you became the person staring back at you.
I painted Time for Living in 2023 during a period when I was drinking a lot. At the time, I wasn't necessarily thinking about the long-term consequences or how much my habits were affecting the way I viewed myself. I was just living, or at least that's what I told myself.
But there's a difference between being alive and actually living.
This painting is a collection of strange faces, distorted expressions, scattered thoughts, and little pieces of myself that I couldn't quite put together. There's no perfect composition or obvious storyline. Everything feels disconnected, almost like a bunch of thoughts happening at once. And honestly, that's pretty close to how my mind felt at the time.
One of the most important details is a small self-portrait accompanied by the words:
“I don't recognize the person I have become.”
That sentence carries more weight than anything else in the painting.
It's a strange feeling to realize that you've changed into someone you never intended to become. Not necessarily a bad person, but someone who feels unfamiliar. Someone whose habits, decisions, and behavior don't quite match the person they believe themselves to be.
Drinking can be funny until it isn't. It can start as a way to socialize, relax, celebrate, or escape from whatever is going on in your head. But somewhere along the way, it can become something you rely on without even realizing it.
I think that's part of what I was trying to process when I created this piece.
The faces throughout the painting are exaggerated, awkward, and sometimes completely ridiculous. Some look confused, some look angry, some look peaceful, and others seem to be staring into absolutely nothing. There's even a little humor scattered throughout because, regardless of how difficult things get, I've always had a tendency to find something absurd in the middle of it all.
I didn't want this painting to look polished or perfectly organized. I wanted it to feel spontaneous, almost like doodling in a notebook while trying to figure out what's going on inside your own head.
The mostly black-and-white composition reflects that simplicity. There's very little color, very little distraction, and nowhere for the expressions to hide. The title stands out in bold letters, almost like a reminder that I needed to hear.
Time for Living.
Not time for drinking my problems away. Not time for pretending everything was fine. Not time for becoming someone I didn't recognize.
Time to actually experience life.
What's interesting to me about this painting is that it doesn't offer a solution. It doesn't end with some grand realization that everything is going to be okay. It's simply a snapshot of a moment when I was becoming aware that something needed to change.
And I think there's something important about documenting those moments, even when they're uncomfortable.
Art doesn't always have to represent who we want to be. Sometimes it needs to show who we were, what we were struggling with, and the thoughts we weren't comfortable saying out loud.
Looking back, I see this painting as both a confession and a reminder. A confession that I wasn't entirely happy with the person I was becoming, and a reminder that recognizing that feeling can be the beginning of something different.
Life is strange, messy, confusing, funny, and occasionally pretty fucking exhausting.
But we only get so much of it.
And at some point, you have to stop simply existing and make time for living.