October 2026 · by Tara in Abstract

A Year in Abstract

TL;DR (for the curious with no time)

Who is Tara in Abstract?

Me as a kid in Barbados

Growing up in Barbados, the life path felt like a foregone conclusion: academia, job, marriage, kids. It's not that creativity was discouraged. It just wasn't nurtured. So for most of my life, the creative part of me sat quietly in a corner, and I didn't even know it existed. A late bloomer in the creative realm, I didn't pick up a camera until 2016.

My fascination with the word "abstract" likely stems from how far removed I am from the person I always thought I would be. For me, it's a word that means infinite possibilities. Seeing things in your own unique way. Not taking things at face value. Not just stepping outside of the box, but turning it upside down and standing on top of it for a different view.

Me behind the camera

That's the thread I've continued to pull throughout this journey. Tara in Abstract represents me finally embracing that creative side of myself, ever evolving and open to interpretation. A Year in Abstract will be about discovery and curiosity in my art. And Life in Abstract, the first piece released, is about being open to the unexpected and letting it lead somewhere beautiful.

The idea

About a year and a half ago, I made a decision. I wanted to make art a bigger part of my life. More creativity, less medicine. Shift the balance toward the one thing I wake up thinking about almost every day.

So I put myself out there more than I ever had before. The goal was mainly to get some signal on whether this was something I should really be pursuing, or just a pipe dream.

I also wanted to face one of my biggest fears: to admit, not only to myself but out loud to the world, that I wanted to be an artist. No specific definition of what that means. Just making "artist" part of who Tara is.

So I released some projects. Applied to some open calls.

Where Light Begins, Curves & Contours, and HODL, Don't Get Shaken Out

The signal wasn't just good. This year has been better than anything I could have imagined. Work got collected. I got into three open calls and work got exhibited. I branched out and dabbled in AI creative work, and the reception was amazing.

WINDOWS

But as rewarding as all that was, there was a missing piece. I was so focused on putting myself out there that there was little time for making the art.

I was marketing. Building websites. Promoting. Making sure all my ducks were in a row to present the work in the best way. Very busy, very productive, very uninspiring. The business of being an artist had quietly eaten away at actually being an artist.

Then one collector planted a seed. He said he'd subscribe if he could, so he wouldn't have to pay attention all the time and wouldn't miss anything.

And here we are.

What it is

A Year in Abstract is an annual subscription. You mint a pass, and the art comes to you. Every release is airdropped straight to your wallet. No mints to follow. Nothing to time. No missing out because you were out living your life.

Simply put, the plan is to release at least two pieces every quarter. When in the quarter may vary depending on how the creative flow is going.

I wanted the passes to be artworks in their own right. Separate from my photography, they're the final chapter of my WINDOWS series, one of the most creative projects I've made and my biggest departure from my usual work. WINDOWS began as a glimpse into a person and has expanded into an invitation to my creative world. Here, the windows open onto a year of creativity. I'd been trying to figure out how to conclude the series, and this felt like the perfect way to tie a bow on it.

The three passes unfolding

The Tier 2 and Tier 3 passes are living artwork. They change as the year goes by. Windows open over time, representing new creative discoveries as the year progresses.

Why I'm doing it

The past year has been amazing, but I've spent very little of it creating. I need to change that.

I want to see what happens in a year where the art comes first. Room to play, in photography and in any other medium that piques my interest along the way. And I want to have a blast doing it.

Selling is always rewarding, but I know it's a risk to ask people to commit to art that doesn't exist yet. Still, my best work comes when I'm not overthinking or over-planning, when I have complete creative freedom.

Five works made with complete creative freedom

So that's what this year is about. Giving myself room to breathe creatively. And I'm planning to bring along everyone who's as curious as I am about what's in store.

Final thoughts

I've always played it safe in life. Always had a safety net, or hedged my bets. Yes, this project is about creative freedom, but it's also about personal growth, and taking a huge risk where it matters most: my art.

I'm trusting that ten years of photography and one year of complete creative focus can produce some of my best work. And just as importantly, work the people supporting me are happy with too.

Three black and white works

I both love and hate the idea of sharing the process. It's often messy before things come together. But I plan to write essays and musings along the way, recording how the year actually unfolds rather than just revealing the finished artwork.

Whether you're here for the love of it or all in on it, my goal is that you look back on this year feeling like you got way more than you bargained for.

I have no idea what this looks like. But I think that's the point.

And to the crew who decided to take the leap with me: whether it grows or stays small, I'm eternally grateful that I don't have to do this alone.

The crew

Following along

Reminders for myself

— Tara

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