The Artist in Me

 

The Artist Inside

There is an artist in me. Maybe in all of us. Mine is mostly hidden but begs to get out every once in a while. 

I’m not talking about that “craft person” I humor on occasion by crocheting something using a pattern or painting seashells to look like roses. Nor am I talking about that desire to “try something different” by joining a group of woodcarvers in my neighborhood. There, I follow someone else’s design or instructions to create my “own” hand carved Santa.

Carving "Santa"

No. This person, this artist, resides deep inside of me in a place I almost fear to acknowledge. Not because it is bad. Mostly because it is seemingly forever elusive. 

It is fed by an eye that sees light and color and longs to capture it forever on canvas. Instead, I typically rely on the camera on my Smart Phone to preserve the image.

I’ve done a bit of painting in times gone by. I’ve painted pictures on wood and canvas. 

And walls. Sorry Mom.

I’ve painted with acrylics and oils. I’ve created images with chalk or charcoal. I’ve watched a couple of television programs and followed one or two step by step workbooks. I have enjoyed the process. 

Mostly. 

I’ve produced a few creations worthy to hang up…somewhere. Thanks Mom.

I had no canvas so I painted
 these birds on a
 plank of wood years ago.
Mom still has it.

Yet…the desire to create something beautiful stays closer to my heart than an actual frame worthy painting.

Mike encourages me in my endeavors. He celebrates my writing, tolerates my unfinished “palm frond” fish on a bench in his shop, and encourages me to not injure myself at the woodcarving gathering. 

This past week I signed up to take a painting class at Rainbow Springs Art. (The closest I’ve come to formal training prior to this was a required art class in junior high and a short step by step one hour class at the YMCA.) There were three students in last week’s group class. Our instructor, Bridget, did not exactly offer a step-by-step process. I’ve had those before.

In fact, Bridget started the class by telling us “There are no Rules.” She then handed us a paper titled, “The Rules of Painting.” 

I started to laugh, but the first item reiterated her comment: “There are no Rules. But guidelines create good paintings.”

The second item stated “Be decisive. If you don’t like it, wait for it to dry and start over.” Permission for a do-over? I love it. It was freeing. It meant I didn’t have to get it right on the first try. 

That paved the way for other items such as “Never start with the color you want to end up with,” and “Use one color you are terrified of.”

The rest of the guidelines were as freeing.  Bridget gave us confidence. The daring to try. And anytime you can go into an experience and walk away with a new perspective, it’s a win.

The painting? A boat on the lake. 

A Boat on the Lake

It may never hang in an art gallery, but I’m thinking that framed, it may find a place in our house. Maybe. And maybe, just maybe, it will be the first of many. Or at least a few.