Growing up in eastern Nigeria, I always wanted to be creative. I wanted to bring joy to everyone around me through the works of my hands. I wasn't sure how to achieve this, but I knew this was what I was born into this world to be - a creative. To inspire and create beautiful connections with people through my creations.

I didn't grow up in an environment that could nurture this desire. I didn't know how to pursue this dream; I wasn't even sure what to pursue. All I had were scraps of random materials I would find around the house. All I knew was that I could turn wet clay after a rainy day into a beautiful sculpture that my mum would later admire lovingly and tell me how proud she was to have a creative daughter. In the same sentence, she would remind me to make sure I completed my school assignments as that was a more important use of my time. That was enough for me; I was content.

I would turn scraps of cloth from our nanny, who was also a seamstress, into a fun assemblage flip book. The book was a great source of entertainment for my classmates who took turns going through it; there was a list for turns, and it was long. This book would later get confiscated in my Catholic high school, and I was also punished for breaking the rules. 

Lol. 

Good times. 

Additionally, I was the class music composer; there was no real party without my original songs. Many times I got into trouble for this, I was physically abused, more times than I care to count.

My desire to stay creative manifested in different ways, from sculpting with red mud to mixed media painting and writing music to express myself in ways I otherwise couldn't. I always felt different, weird, and I owned it. It wasn’t something I wanted to change.

I nurtured this desire in a small corner of my soul and watered it daily with the vision of who I wanted to be. I dared not tell my family I wanted to be an artist; that was unthinkable. 

The priority for any parent in a typical African home is for their child to get good grades in school, get a degree, and be a respected professional. My dad did everything within his strength to give his children the kind of life he could only dream of. I believed the least I owed him was to get good grades and get a degree, which I did. He wanted me to be a lawyer. Nope!

I got a degree in Journalism and Communication because I thought I could be a broadcast journalist. I always admired the lady who read the 9:00 pm NTA news every weekday, and I decided I was going to be like her. After graduation, I did get the opportunity to sit and talk in front of a camera, but I immediately knew that wasn't for me, at least not in that capacity.

All this time, I forgot the woman in me who loved art. I forgot that little girl who would spark joy with her creativity. I forgot to remember her. I had tucked her away in a place where I didn't even have access to her anymore. I just wanted to be who my family and everyone else thought I needed to be.

BERNICE U. ARTI had to make a change in my life, so when the opportunity came for me to migrate to Canada, I grabbed it and ran for that change I knew my soul needed. Canada gave me a whole new perspective on life, away from family and everything I had known my whole life.

It wasn’t easy at first, living here by myself with no family and barely making new friends. But I made it work.

I was forced to find my own way in new ways I didn't know how. I was forced to face myself without boundaries and, for the first time, be me in the best way I could.

I completed a post-grad in a creative field and got myself a 9-5 job in the communications department for a healthcare packaging company. Even with this okay job, I still had deep feelings of dissatisfaction with who I was. I found myself being unhappy all the time; nothing gave me joy, and my day-to-day was a blur. I didn't know what was missing until I remembered - I used to have that fire! I knew I had to reignite the creative fire I had unknowingly put out years ago.

After 18 months, I left the job for another one that could satisfy my love for staying creative. In the new job, I worked with a team of creative minds to design digital assets, which I really love to do.

Picking up the courage to try my hand on being creative again, I started playing with visual art on the dining table in my apartment. I would come back from work, eat dinner, and spend hours practicing, failing, and winning at my own pace. 

BERNICE U. ARTI taught myself how to work with epoxy resin because I was absolutely in love with the glossy finish. I dabbled in geode-inspired pieces of art. I loved this form of art, but it didn't feel authentic to me. I admired artists who were pros at this form of art and wanted to be as good as them, but then I quickly realized that wasn't who I was. I'm not a geode artist. 

Crystal knowledge is not authentic to me, so why was I forcing myself to be so good at this?

I didn't know much about crystals, but I do know about the beauty and richness of being a black woman, a black immigrant, and African to the core. I know about the rich and vibrant Igbo culture; I know what it means to come from a developing country that the better part of the world perceives to be in constant chaos. I know it all. Gradually, I started turning my art form into a storytelling of the beauty of blackness, and the rawness of femininity and womanhood, especially in a society that seems to undervalue that. 

Now, I'm on a journey of creating pieces that tell stories of the rich culture, and the fullness of being black, and the resilient and nurturing nature of womanhood. I’m on a journey of creating pieces that celebrate the glory of nature and He who made it accessible to all of us through His enduring Grace. 

I'm on a journey to change the narrative, to bridge the gap from a single storytelling to a whole world of African excellence and knowledge. I don't know what it feels like to be a black person born and raised in a Western country, but I do know that I'm a black immigrant woman who has experienced the other side of living abroad, away from a culture I have known all my life to a whole other culture that would many times misunderstand the things I grew to know and love - the things that are real, authentic, and beautiful.

I aspire to create pieces that tell these stories and bridge the gap through my artistry.

This is why I create art.