
Amina Hammond
Multimedia ArtistI am a lifelong creative.
But I’m not here to give you a nostalgic monologue about how it all started in my childhood basement in D.C., where my parents’ publishing business introduced me to light tables, X-Acto knives, and T-squares. I won’t dwell on the hours spent sketching Ariel from The Little Mermaid on that same light table, tracing the magic of animation frame by frame.
Because while those moments shaped me, they aren’t what defined me.
The first time I saw my creativity turn into currency
The moment I realized that something made with my hands could hold real monetary value changed everything. It happened in high school, when I started selling charcoal portraits for $50 a pop—taking ordinary photographs and transforming them into art my peers were eager to own. That was more than a side hustle; it was proof that my creativity had power.
Howard University wasn’t just my school—it was my creative awakening
Long before I ever set foot on campus, I knew Howard was home. I would visit just to sketch Founders Library, imagining the day I’d study there. And when that day came, I found myself surrounded by some of the most brilliant young Black minds I’d ever known—learning not just how to draw, but how to pour my entire soul into my work. Howard wasn’t just where I honed my craft; it was where I built a creative community, designing promotional materials that helped my peers bring their visions to life.
The creative conference that changed everything
I flew across the country to attend one of the biggest creative conferences in L.A., excited to soak in every moment. But when I got there, something unexpected happened. I stumbled upon an Apple Pencil and iPad, and suddenly, everything else faded away. My carefully planned schedule? Forgotten. I sat on the floor and sketched for hours, completely lost in the joy of digital creation. That moment unlocked something new—an obsession with blending traditional artistry with modern tools.
Art, movement, and music—how it all connects
My love for dance, my obsession with animation, my deep connection to music—it’s all intertwined. The rhythm of a bass line finds its way into the contrasts of my brushstrokes. Sharp lyrics translate into bold textures. Even art history plays a role—chiaroscuro’s dramatic highs and lows, the sleek precision of modernism, the electric energy of pop art. Creativity isn’t just what I do; it’s how I move, how I feel, how I see the world.
I could go on, but I’ll just leave you with this:
I am a lifelong creative. And if you’re reading this, chances are, so are you.
We don’t create because we choose to—we create because we must.