Jasmine Rosa
Emilia Hintsala

I, Jasmine Rosa Emilia Hintsala. commonly known as Jasu, was born in 1993, on the 16th of March, in a tiny Finnish village called Oulainen. My family consists of 13 individuals: Mom, dad, five boys, and six girls. I grew up surrounded by people; there were many kids in my neighborhood, and I had plenty of cousins and other relatives whom I often saw. Even so, ever since I was a little kid, I always enjoyed playing alone. I used to go explore the unknown environment on my own, something I still love to do to this day. A lot of times I'd rather leave the crowd of people to have my little adventures in solitude.

The forest was my favorite place; there I would spend hours imagining I was the fastest horse in the whole entire world. The hunters were constantly after me, trying to catch and imprison me, but I was the only horse they couldn't catch. Then, on other occasions, I'd turn into a tiger: I would be the most skilled hunter that had ever existed. The human-hunters never managed to track me but instead, I'd sneak behind them to give them the last surprise of their lives. Every time I was swimming, I turned into a dolphin or a seal, and when I was around 4 years old, I would take off all my clothes every day exactly at 6 pm because, naturally, animals didn't wear any clothes. Then I'd run like a dog all around the house and the yard, not using my hands at all when it was time to eat and drink.

I remember my dad once asking me what I was going to become when I'd grow up. Without hesitation, I blurted out, "A tiger!" Dad laughed and asked me, "What do tigers do?" To this too, I had a clear answer: "They eat small children, and fat."

Yes, I was very passionate about animals, and as my dad bought a VHS player when I was around 8 years old, I would sit for hours watching different nature documentaries over and over again. My passion for animals and nature was always intertwined with my passion for drawing. And so, when I grabbed a pen, the papers would be filled with different animals. As my mom saw me watching a nature documentary I hadn't seen before, I remember her saying something along the lines: "And now she's going to spend the next two weeks drawing those dolphins." And that's exactly what happened.

I distinctly recall a particular moment from when I had just started elementary school. I hadn't attended daycare or preschool, so going to elementary school at the age of seven marked the first time in my life that I'd spend my days away from home. One morning, I arrived at school very early, and it happened that one of my future best friends had done the same. A teacher, noticing our early arrival, invited us inside and provided us with paper, pencils, and crayons, encouraging us to draw.

Happily, I began drawing, creating a sizable grass field divided in two by a small stream on the left side of the paper. I then added horses grazing on the field. I was completely immersed in the drawing process when I suddenly heard a gasp from the other girl sitting next to me: "Woaaah! That's so beautiful! You can draw so well! Can I have that drawing?" I still remember the feeling of surprise and confusion I felt. I had always loved drawing, but it had never occurred to me that I was somehow "good at it." I couldn't recall anyone at home commenting on my drawings, whether to praise or critique. I had simply been drawing because it was so much fun.

My mom used to hide all the drawing paper from me because I had a tendency to use up a huge pile of paper in just a couple of hours. This is why I started to draw on used envelopes and on the backs of paid bills that I found in the kitchen garbage bin. In the third grade, I got a new elementary school teacher, and for the next four years, we would occasionally argue about my drawing style. I had a wild imagination and always paid attention to details. When given the task to draw "my day in a forest," most of my classmates would create something that included themselves, a few trees, and perhaps a small additional element. In contrast, I would draw myself (probably riding some animal), various types of trees, bushes with differently colored berries, pine cones scattered on the ground, an anthill, and mushrooms. I would include tree stumps, stones of different sizes, some with moss and others with smiling faces. And of course, there were animals: a bear lurking behind one of the trees, a moose, a reindeer, a stag with enormous antlers, a hedgehog having a dinner with frogs beneath big rhubarb leaves. There were also one or two rabbits, a fox chasing a mouse, a snake, some lizards gathered together, a woodpecker diligently pecking a tree, squirrels annoyed by the noise it made, birds soaring across the sky, some perched on tree branches, an owl peeking from a hole in a tree, the sun and clouds in the sky, and perhaps even some rainy clouds and a rainbow. Wolves, lynx, and a weasel found their places in my drawing as well. Every animal that came to mind had to fit into the scene.

Looking back on those years, it's not surprising that my teacher occasionally lost his temper. However, I was always very fast at drawing, and even with all those details, I rarely left any works unfinished due to running out of time. Nevertheless, there were times when the teacher strictly forbade me from including so many details, as I seemed capable of continuing endlessly. Whenever he did this, I sought revenge by hastily drawing something that was far below my skill level.

At home, I would tape several pieces of paper together to create one enormous canvas, and then I would begin drawing detail after detail as ideas continued to pop into my mind.

As elementary school progressed, I discovered more about my talent for drawing. Eventually, the entire school became aware of it. While drawing remained my favorite activity, it slowly introduced a new element into my life: competition. I had always been skilled in drawing, consistently the best among my peers, and I felt compelled to uphold that reputation. So, I continued drawing, relentlessly improving my skills. However, as I entered upper secondary school, the enthusiasm of my childhood years began to slowly fade away. I still enjoyed creating art, and I continued to excel at it, but the purpose of creating art was gradually shifting away from pure enjoyment. I never felt good enough. Despite all the compliments I received, I couldn't bring myself to believe them. There was always something I perceived as wrong with my drawings, and I often fixated on their flaws.

Throughout my years in school, I excelled in most subjects, effortlessly earning excellent grades. Although I possessed skill, I lacked ambition. Memorizing what teachers expected me to remember and reproducing it on exam paper was an easy task for me. My grades remained exceptional even in subjects that I had no interest in. Yet, I never truly cared about my academic grades; my passion was solely focused on excelling in drawing.

Upon starting upper secondary school, I discovered watercolors. I had disliked using them for most of my life, largely due to the poor-quality equipment we had at school. However, as I followed various artists on the internet, I noticed several of them creating stunning paintings with watercolors. This convinced me that achieving a beautiful and detailed result with watercolors was indeed possible. At that point, I decided to learn how to paint with watercolors, primarily because they were much more affordable than the copic markers I desired but couldn't afford.

After purchasing my first set of watercolors, I remember trying them a few times and feeling frustrated because I couldn't achieve the results I wanted. Then one morning, I woke up with a sense of determination: today, I would succeed. And I did. Since that day, watercolors have become my favorite medium for coloring.

Since elementary school, there had always been artists whom I admired. I aspired to be like them. My own artistic style never seemed good enough for me, leading me to try and mimic their drawing and coloring styles. However, this often brought me only frustration as I was not able to work the drawing or coloring style as well as they did. Ultimately, I would return to my own style, which I still wasn't happy with. The cycle went on for years; I'd find a new artists to admire, a new style to try and copy, and a new disappointment to face.

As I approached the age of 18, I became increasingly unhappy with myself and my art. I continued drawing more than ever; it had become an obsession. However, the days when I would create something and eagerly share it with my family and friends were gone. You see, my greatest new passion was to create art and comics of an imaginary gay couple. Having been raised in a strictly religious family, I was ashamed of my creations and only felt comfortable sharing them online, with a specific, like-minded audience, while hiding behind various online accounts. Despite becoming more skilled than ever, I still couldn't find true happiness in what I created.

One by one, I started facing the fears that had held me in the darkness of depression for so many years. I founded Jasu Wonder World in 2016, to make a living as an artist. I have faced a lot of opposition and doubt, greatest of which from within myself, but when I stepped on this artist path, I made myself a promise. This promise has been an anchor that has kept me rooted to the path through even the strongest of storms.

Whatever comes my way, I'll not back down. Wherever this artist path takes me, I'll go. This is the path I choose to die on.

Trust me when I say this path has not been without its challenges. It hasn't been an easy path but I wouldn't change a thing. It is a path that I chose, and I couldn't have asked for a more fulfilling life. I've had to confront and overcome fears that have haunted me throughout my entire life. But it is thanks to this that I've become a person I can genuinely be proud of. And, like an added bonus, life has repeatedly opened up new possibilities and experiences for me; the kind I'd certainly never have had if I had stayed on the path of depression.