Conversations with the Inspiring Janelle Velasco

Today we’d like to introduce you to Janelle Velasco.

Thanks for sharing your story with us Janelle. So, let’s start at the beginning and we can move on from there.
“Ah,” I breathe a sigh of relief as this is finally the opportunity to tell my story. I have imagined this moment for a long time on many occasions. I will admit, I imagined being filmed in black and white, in a glamorous 1960’s café somewhere in an upscale part of Italy, cigar smoke floating through the air, I am wearing an all-black outfit, and it would be so bright, I would have to wear sunglasses indoors adding to the rather mysterious ambiance of the whole situation.

I begin by saying I was born in Mesa, Arizona; although, most of my early memories were set in Gilbert, Arizona. I was born into a “Mexican-American” family. I say that lightly as I dislike labels, for one. And this whole segregation by ethnicity jargon is outdated. I am an American through and through. Diverse. Proud. Multi-culturally aware American. In this sense, I would describe my mom as, “She is an 80’s rocker chick, who loved live music, and whose favorite band (till this day) is Metallica,” to give those wondering a better sense of my upbringing. (I still know a wide variety of their songs by heart and cannot tell you a single name). No, I was not taught Spanish and do not speak Spanish although my skin is darker in color. I learned Spanish in my high school years in Spanish class like most of my peers. I struggled and would ask my Nana for help (she was not much help as she spoke slang versus the proper way). My mother can still, for the most part, cook only what comes out of a box or a 99-cent package of seasoning ingredients you get from the supermarket aisle. With that being said, I do recall my mother worked earnestly for her paycheck and provided much stability throughout my childhood, well both my parents tried their best. If you have ever seen that movie A Bronx Tale from the early 1990s this particular quote comes to mind. Robert De Niro says to his son, Calogero, “He’s wrong, it doesn’t take much strength to pull a trigger but try getting up every morning day after day and work for a living, let’s see him try that, then we’ll see who the real tough guy is, the working man is the tough guy, your father’s the tough guy!” I am thankful for my parents, especially my mom, as I saw this every day – every single day.

Some of the earliest, most cherished, memories I have was that of waking up early on Saturday mornings to eagerly watch Bob Ross at my Nana’s house. She was the artist. The artist as the one who influenced me to become the artist I am today; although, I do think we are born who we are in some regard. She was known in our family for her paintings of natural landscapes and the portraits she had done. She was influential to me as an artist in many ways, but also, I am eternally grateful as she provided me with a sense of being nurtured and cared for as a child. She cooked homemade foods too, and I loved to eat. Love, there was always lots of love too. I cannot forget to mention the number of black and white TV shows we watched together, like I Love Lucy (Her stomping the grapes – great episode), The Little Rascals (a circus scene was always my favorite), and Bewitched (I mean, that nose twitch, come on – classic!). It was a place of “no stress,” but we all know that isn’t reality, but it was sure nice while it lasted.

In my home life, I have memories of my mom working hard every day at an office job she really hated. The drive – she hated. The setting – she hated. I remember the stress and the weight she carried knowing she had to do this to support her children. This lasted many, many years and well into my teenage even adulthood. I was the oldest of four children. The early memories of the struggles my parents went through while raising us… and the arguments to are forever engrained in my mind. One memory was that of hiding under the table, in what felt like me “protecting” my sister, while my parents had an argument about finances. I can still see the stress even feel it. In this particular memory, I am looking on the outside in. They argued in the yellow tinted indoor lightning in the kitchen while my sister and I huddle under the table with my arms wrapped around her as she was younger and scared. She didn’t know what I was going on – whereas I was used to it by this point. Another memory of the financial stress I soon grew to live with was that of walking through the grocery store aisles.

As a kid, I yearned for the cereal I liked or the certain foods I craved. “That cereal, that is my favorite.” I would eyeball and imagine buying the bigger boxes. However, I learned at a young age that sometimes you do not always get what you want no matter how much you want it – reality sets in. This reality is one I always felt a child is too young to bear. Walking toward check out my heart would start to race, “Would it happen again…?” I would wonder if we would walk out with our cart full of groceries. I could feel the tension from my mother growing with every inch we got closer to check out. I knew she was trying to feed the family being I was one of the multiple children – multiple mouths to feed. The memories of walking out of the grocery store without food are forever burned into my mind. Keep in mind, I love food. I loved to eat. The memories of seeing the cart full of groceries left behind are one I will never ever forget. Maybe that was when my anxiety started? Maybe it was the tension I felt at home with the heavy load of struggles my parents carried – we all carried? Or the anger I vividly remember my dad having? Yes, I was a wild headstrong child. I will disclose, no child deserves to be running in fear of being whipped by a black belt from a grown man. The struggles were hard and the memories are not forgotten, but one memory would stand the test of time, shape most of my childhood in some way, and play on repeat for many years following.

I have been waiting to tell this story for a long time coming now. I was young, too young when I was told to hold a secret, a secret I would carry for most of my early life. My mom kept me home from school this particular sunny day. That alone was strange, and something was going on. One, my mom never missed a day of work. Two, it was just us. That never happened… ever. She eventually sat me down on the couch and began to tell me the dad that I knew as my dad who had been raising me was not actually my biological father. My world began to spin, and my child-like mind couldn’t comprehend what was being told to me. This was an adult concept; the idea a father could leave his family behind was one I could not fathom. My brain was too young. My childhood ended at that moment and I entered the adult world. I listened, although I could not recall a single word she spoke. I was trying to grasp the sudden realization of, “This is why I look vastly different from my three sisters.” “Maybe this is why dad is so hard on me?” “I have dark skin and they don’t.” “I am different.” “I am the odd man out.” “I do not belong.” These are the words that my child-like mind began repeating over and over to myself. No one was there to stop it. No one was in my head except me. I lied, I do remember one sentence my mom spoke in that conversation that brings the memory rushing back to life. She had said, “Do not tell your sisters.” With that being the end of the conversation, it solidified the feelings I had felt and the words my inner voice was repeating inside my head. It was confirmed, I was the black sheep of the family and this once happy, laughing, an outgoing little girl with no worries suddenly bagged up this secret and threw it on her back to carry despite how heavy it was. I wanted to talk to someone, I wanted to cry, and above all, I wanted to scream. “Why would someone do such a thing? Am I not good enough? What is wrong with me? I must have done something.” I find this happens more often than not when a child is faced with a struggle such as parents getting a divorce – they blame themselves. Yes, I did exactly that and no, I did not speak a word. The last reel of the memory was my agreement to promise I would not say a word. I walked to my room, tore every article of clothing in my closet out, threw it on the floor or my bed, where ever it would fit, and organized my entire closet by color, length of sleeves, and whatever else I could get my mind to conjure as I gripped with trying to control what was laid in front of me. Lastly, my mom had walked by to see what I was doing, looked, and kept about her business. We never spoke a word about it again for many, many years. The reel ends.

Art is what I chose as a kid to use as my tool to combat what I faced in my childhood. I, at the time, could not speak and use my words any longer. Therefore, I expressed myself through art – in particular, my drawing skills. I would sit for hours drawing pictures by hand. I would draw Eliza from The Wild Thornberries, scenes of nature being influenced by Bob Ross and my nana, and animals. I was always an animal lover. I remember a picture I had drawn of a mama giraffe kissing her baby giraffe on top of the head- now that was a good drawing. I would show them off to any family or friends that would come over. The multiple art shows as a kid. I remember feeling proud and amazed, “I did this,” I would say to myself. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Till this day I still get that same feeling when I finish a piece. “I did this. Wow.” I feel amazed and these moments are magical.

Now back to the original question, how did I get to where I am today? Well, I want my story to be one that shows perseverance and triumph. I never want anyone, not one single person, to ever pity me or feel bad for me. We all have stories. Some had it worse than I did and some perhaps can learn from my stories if they had it better. I aim to inspire and remind everyone of the spirit and strength of the human spirit – the resiliency we all encompass within. The fact that we can each overcome what we have been through, learn from it, shape it to serve a purpose of our own, grow, and look back with love, appreciation, and compassion. I look back with forgiveness and remind myself, “We are all human. We tried our best, and it is up to us to transform negativity into positivity.” Art does this for me. Art is my reminder. I want to share this with as many people as I possibly can.

Overall, has it been relatively smooth? If not, what were some of the struggles along the way?
Has it been a smooth road? Does anyone have a smooth road? We all have our struggles, stories, and obstacles we have overcome, currently are trying to overcome or will overcome in the future. The difference is- how hard will you push through to overcome the said obstacle(s)? I have overcome the obstacles mentioned prior plus my parents separating two to three times before I turned eighteen-years-old, growing up and literally watching a sister struggle with drug addiction for a number of years (meth, heroin, cocaine, etc.) and the immense ordeal that surrounded that lifestyle, my own battle with depression, thoughts of suicide, bullying, being a rape survivor, sexual harassment, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, drinking at a young age, partying at a young age to drown out the noise, and the list goes on and on. My advice for anyone (everyone) traveling a “bumpy” road is, “This too shall pass.” No matter how hard, bumpy, dark, though it is what you went through, are going through or will go through – you can overcome. You might be pushed down, thrown down, fall, or stumble, maybe jump in willingly – you can get back up, crawl back up, be pulled back up in my sense. One warning, no one will be there to help you. You will have to do this on your own. Learn to walk with your head high no matter what is being thrown at you. Crawl over those obstacles and bumps if you have to- dig deep. Through my struggles, I have learned, they do not define you – I define myself. My stories are my own and they have value. They can inspire- I can inspire. No one can tell me, “This is not true,” because this is the side/perspective/goggles I saw life happen and that in itself is extremely empowering. Stand up. We all have our stories. Do not be ashamed of where you have come from. Own it. When you walk down the street, remember this, we all have gone through something. I worked for many years in the restaurant business and people were not always nice as I saw thousands of faces in my career. When times were tough, and individuals would test my limits, I would tell myself, “Remember those days, weeks, months, and years you hated the world? This person in front of you has either been raised to be the way they are, which is a shame in itself – have compassion. Perhaps this person went through something that shaped them to act this way and that is a true tragedy (life is hard) – have compassion. Or, this person is obviously going through something so terrible they feel they can take it out on those around them- forgive.” It is easy to forgive others – but the toughest thing you can do is forgive yourself. We are human. We try our best. We have the power to transform the negativity in the world into positivity. Keep your head up. Keep walking. Get back up. Swim up even though it feels like you’re drowning. Do what feels right. Say what feels right. And never give up the fight no matter what anyone says, thinks or does. This is your story and it is not over yet.

What should we know about JWOLF Artist? What do you guys do best? What sets you apart from the competition?
I draw, paint, and take advantage of certain aspects within the digital art world (although, I use that word lightly) to bring together the various mediums I work with; this is all in hopes to bring life to the final product that always evolves from a place of noble intentions. What sets my art apart from others is the heart, passion, and energy it evolves from. Drawing was my first love. Painting was my acquired love. Most of my works are digitally printed to offer that clean, finished, and pristine look to the final product that can fit almost any size and material in terms of wall art. This allows my work to suit the wide range of preferences my clientele has as we are all different and unique. I respect this aspect and take it into account when creating my work. Every day, my art grows. I see through an artist’s eyes I have come to realize. I see lines and color differently than most. This is what I share through my art in my techniques. Per my last projects, I was working on custom portraits for the holiday season. I have found this a superb way to freeze time, transport the feeling of a loved one loss, and or that of a grand memory in being captured in a capsule-like fashion. I have pieces I have worked on always up for sale via my Etsy shop as it offers an easy to use a template to share. I aim to widen my custom portraits to illustration types where we can customize your scene further. For example, perhaps you want to be an astronaut floating in space – I can make this happen. Or, per my husband, you desire to be a member within a Star Wars scene – I can draw/paint this for you. In addition, I am currently beginning to work with a greeting card company, Card Gnome, to explore the faucet of creating/designing greeting cards. The possibilities are endless in my book. At the moment, I am commissioned to create custom artwork. I just took up the great task of creating a custom John Wayne framed artwork. I personally will be making a nursery piece for myself as I am due to deliver this February. My art evolves every day and even I cannot fathom the possibilities JWOLF Artist has before it. My Instagram (@j_wolf_artist) is a great visual portfolio one can see my artwork sprawled out in. The possibilities are endless.

Who do you look up to? How have they inspired you?
Lately, I have been taking into account as I look around and I am truly grateful for the beautiful, kind, and inspiring women I have found myself surrounded by. As a kid, I was inspired by performers such as Selena, Jennifer Lopez, and Jessica Alba. They didn’t mind the spotlight, I loved to dance as a kid, they laughed with such happiness, I admired that, and they weren’t afraid to be themselves, and these were qualities a young girl idolized. As I have grown, I learned a more diverse range of such desired qualities that I myself aspire to as a woman till this day. In turn, I became inspired by the strength of those around me and those who came before me. In addition to the family, my close friends have turned into amazing and inspiring women. This range of women has different backgrounds, stories, and individual qualities that I look up to.

The qualities I look up to in a woman as a woman, and now as a mother, evolve and grow but are centered around certain values. The ability for a woman to speak her mind with strength and grace while having compassion for those around her is something to look up to. A woman who values her freedom and independence is a must. Some women carry the world on their shoulders and they do it in a way that looks effortless. Vulnerability is another trait I have recently discovered as being of value. The ability to be transparent and not be ashamed is mind-boggling – it is inspiring. Now, a mother of soon to be two and an individual with dreams upon ambitions, I have learned the true strength a woman carries, lives with, and radiates on a day to day basis. I am grateful for those who have shown me such values in the past and were role models, although I might not have come to realization until later in life. Till this day, I am grateful for those who continue to be involved in my life and continue to bring about inspiration just by being themselves. The women who work three jobs and support a family are heroes and I see you and what you do makes a difference. The women who push through the depression and anxiety to live out their dream are role models and I see you – what you are doing matters. And to the women who cannot afford groceries at the supermarket but walk out of the store with their head held up high and remain strong for their kids- I thank you. Without these women and people in this world, it would crumble. I aim to be the best person I can be and thank the women in my past, present, and future. I thank the people that make this world a better place – this is what I want to be a part of. I desire to inspire. I dare to dream. I am me and I want to share this with as many people as possible to show them you can overcome. Anything is possible.

Pricing:

• JWOLF Artist photo prints range from 6$ to 18$ depending on size
• JWOLF Artist framed photo prints range from 48$ to 106$ depending on size
• JWOLF Artist canvas prints range from 75$ to 95$ depending on size
• All sizes and finishes can be customized further to suit any setting or preference
• Custom portrait prints with a sketch style begin at 62$ up to 145$ depending on finish and size
• Custom portrait prints with a painting style coming soon
• Custom portraits with an illustration style coming soon
• JWOLF Artist greeting cards via Card Gnome at 4.99$

Contact Info:

• Website: Etsy.com/shop/JWOLFArtist
• Email: janelle_velasco@hotmail.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/j_wolf_artist/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jwolfartist2/

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