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ART ON A MISSION
ART ON A MISSION
GLIMPS INTO THE GALLERY
“What It Used To Feel Like”
An enormous hand wrapped in billowing blue fabric stretches down from the sky, holding an ordinary number two pencil. The pencil touches the ground as it begins to draw, adding to the rural scenery around it. The flowing fabric around the hand is intended to convey the nature of the young, wild, and untamed artist who did not know what he was doing, but was having fun in the process. He did not care to use special tools, nor did he need an array of expensive artist materials, but a singular number two pencil.
I made this painting to articulate the idea that children’s imaginations are powerful and unbound. This is reflected in the idealistic and primary color palette, similar to how a child might envision the world when they are young. Drawing for me used to feel so carefree and simple to me. There wasn’t yet pressure to make anything “good”. Children do not think too much about what they make, and yet, they find joy in it. This is because the act of creating itself is special, and simply existing in a body that is able to express itself is serendipitous. I understand what Picasso said when he expressed, “It took me four years to paint like Rafeal, but a lifetime to paint like a child”.
Now, as an adult pursuing a “professional art career”, it takes constant effort to remind myself to keep the process enjoyable and not think too much about what others will think. I try to embody my younger self, who was enamored by the simple act of creating and intuitively knew at the time that art does not have to make sense to anybody but me.
oil on canvas
36 x 96 inch.
2025
“7:13 PM”
In this still-life painting, a hidden window casts a light on several dark green stools, creating a geometric pattern. The patches of light that fall on the stools transform the dark green hues to a lighter shade, revealing their true color.
I was inspired by these green stools I saw every day back in college. In the evening, the light would hit them cinematically. After noticing it enough times, it became a little ritual of mine to try to see the light from the window transform the chairs before it faded. Shortly after moving away and missing school, I was inspired to capture the stools for myself, making this fleeting moment permanent.
Paintings like this remind me that life is often made of numerous small moments put together and form a collective memory. I was surprised by how much I missed those little moments after leaving school.
36 x 48 in.
oil on canvas
2025
“Inbetween”
In this two-part diptych self-portrait, I stand between two places. On the left, part of me stands in a room of my childhood home, and on the right, a larger part of me is in an unknown but brighter place. This symbolizes the raw transitional period in moving between places, physically and metaphorically.
I began painting this shortly after graduating from college and moving into my first apartment. I was really excited about living in a new space, but I was also homesick. Despite moving on to bigger and better things, it felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind. This painting expresses the duality of beginning a new chapter: the excitement and possibility of what is to come, but also the grief of abandoning the life you have.
oil on canvas
two-part diptych
(36 x 48 in.) and (30 x 48) in.)
2025
As it turns out, I am not only inspired by acorns, but also by many small wonders in nature. In this painting, I hold two samara seeds in my hands. “Samaras”, maple seeds, or "helicopters," are similar to acorns, but they are smaller, and they grow with a “wing,” as I used to call it. They grow in pairs on tree branches and spin to the ground when they fall.
Samaras are like people to me. We often begin life side by side with our siblings, parents, and friends. Eventually, we are swept up by the wind and scattered in our different directions. We are never meant to stay suspended forever on our branches, but we are meant to fall, to get dizzied by the wind of life, and find a place to land and take root. Eventually, we yearn to recreate that same feeling of community and belonging we once had.
This painting is inspired by the feeling I harbor for my evolving family. Though time has shaped and transformed both myself and those I love, I continue to grieve our younger selves. Like the rapid and fragile descent of samara seeds, youth is fleeting and vulnerable. We were forced to leave earlier versions of ourselves behind, and what remains are the memories - embers that reignite a quiet fire within me each time I return to them.
oil on repurposed wood panel
18 x 24 in.
“Germination”
I spotted the acorn in this painting on a hike on Buffalo Mountain, TN. It wasn’t growing the way it should, not buried in the dirt, but perched on top. Its root was somehow anchored into the soil below. I thought about how resilient it must be that, despite the circumstances, it still managed to grow.
Germination is the moment a dormant seed finally breaks open and begins its long journey into a tree. After enduring a cold winter, its roots dig into the ground and start the slow transformation. I have been fascinated by acorns since I was young. On the playground, I used to collect them and plant them in the ground, hoping that they would someday grow (they never did). My younger self was fascinated by the idea that something small could eventually become huge and mighty.
Today, they teach me the virtue in patience. Many of our desires and dreams do not happen overnight. They need consistent watering to flourish. Eventually, they ask us to outgrow the shells that once kept us safe because some things are not meant to serve us forever. It is a reminder to me that real growth is not sudden, but often agonizingly slow and uncomfortable, yet deeply alive.
oil on repurposed wood panel
16 x 20 in.
2026
INTRODUCING…
ETHAN MARTINEZ
My name is Ethan Martinez, and I am a Filipino-American artist based in Johnson City, TN. I like to tell people that I did not care to paint when I was younger because it was “too messy.” That was until I discovered oil paint in my freshman year of college, when everything changed for me. I quickly became consumed by painting, and I even changed my major to pursue an art career. The next year, I attended the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) in Georgia and majored in Painting and minored in Drawing, during which I exhibited in many small-group exhibitions and cohort showcases. I graduated in 2025 and have returned home to Johnson City, TN, to continue my practice. Since returning, I have had to unlearn many of the formal aspects taught at school to reconnect with why I make art. In the future, I plan to develop my practice, apply to a MFA program, and dig even deeper.
I believe our younger selves are the most authentic and honest versions of who we are. Through my art, I reconnect with that sense of curiosity and freedom that I once had as a child. My work explores the quiet discomfort of coming of age, the vulnerable transitory periods of life, and the yearning to rekindle my childhood perspective. Recently, I have been challenging my instinct for perfectionism and learning to trust my intuition more.
Nearly all of my pieces begin with the observation and reinterpretation of the world around me. Many of my artworks are grounded in realism, and often become metaphorical. I draw inspiration from light, nature and sometimes architecture. I gravitate toward larger projects, finding the physical motion of broad brushstrokes both engaging and addictive. In contrast, smaller works intimidate me, as they can feel confining. Aesthetically, I am drawn to sharp contrasts of light and shadow, informed by classical and Baroque artists, especially Caravaggio and his chiaroscuro technique.
Today, I use art to rediscover and learn more about myself. It is a practice of actively engaging with the art of becoming. This statement itself is ever-changing and unfixed. What is true for me now may not be true for me in the future.
MESSAGE FROM THE ARTIST
THE CAUSE BEHIND THE COLLECTION
EAST TENNESSEE FOUNDATION
I have chosen to support the East Tennessee Foundation’s Neighbor to Neighbor Disaster Relief Fund, which aids the victims recently hit by Hurricane Helene. Unfortunately, a category four hurricane devastated the eastern United States in September 2024. Living in Eastern Tennessee, I saw firsthand the destruction that it caused. I saw houses, hospitals, and roads that I have known my entire life washed away, and although significant repairs have been made since, many lives have yet to return to normal. The Neighbor to Neighbor Disaster Relief Fund exclusively supports nonprofits and other agencies aiding East Tennessee’s recovery, assisting a wide range of locations. Hurricane Helene is considered the deadliest storm to have hit the U.S since Hurricane Katrina, which is why I am compelled to support this charity. Donating to this fund is my way of giving back to the region that gave me so much and helping ensure that families have access to immediate relief, rebuilding support, and hope during an incredibly difficult time.
-ETHAN MARTINEZ
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