.I sort of fell into art on accident. On the advice of my dentist (who was also my boss at the time) I enrolled in a non-major ceramics course my very first semester at West Virginia University just for fun (I was going to be either a nutrition major, or a dental hygiene major). I had always wanted to try it, but I had no idea how quickly I would become hooked! It wasn't long before I resented my other classes for keeping me away from working in the studio. It wasn't much longer after that when I realized I had to continue studying ceramics. I couldn't imagine not continuing to take classes in ceramics and was convinced I would regret it forever if I allowed the fear of an unconventional career to stop me from learning. What can I say? I was in love and it does weird things to you. So, to my surprise, and the horror of some of the adults in my life (not my parents thankfully), I switched majors to fine art with a focus in ceramics.
For this (recovering) control freak I was pretty terrified of all the unknowns I was about to encounter...and yet I also felt wildly excited about the new adventure I was starting.
I remember walking into the Creative Arts College for my first drawing class. This is, oddly enough, a memory that sticks out because I was terrified to be in a drawing class. I was a weird art student because I never had art classes before I went to college. I loved being creative, but I'd never learned the basics of art. Like elements of design. Or drawing. Especially drawing! I'd seen how good these kids could be and I rarely even bothered to draw stick figures. I was a complete newbie. But I knew that I had to be a ceramics major so I sat down at my drawing horse and watched as the teacher put a skeleton in the center of the room and said, "everyone take about 5 minutes to draw that." I honestly almost packed up and left. (Confession: I am awkward AND I have anxiety. I get worked up over things that I probably shouldn't get upset about) There was no way I could draw that skeleton in the whole class period much less 5 minutes. But I drew what I could and when our teacher called out to stop and turn our boards around to show the class I did just that. And then I waited with a pit in my stomach...ready to be discovered as the worst art student in all of history (aren't you glad I'm not dramatic?).
To my surprise, I wasn't the worst...not that anyone else was either. I could see there were other beginners in the class or people who didn't take to drawing as well as others...and maybe those that just didn't care about drawing well. My teacher had helpful comments on things to look out for and tips on what to try or not to try. And then he said, "I saw some of you using erasers. Don't use them anymore. If you make a mistake just live with it. Or use it in the drawing. If I see you use them I'll take them away."
Wait, what?! No erasers? Live with my mistakes?
One of the many things I love (and hate...let's be real) about art is that it forces me to deal with my insecurities. I used to think it brought out my insecurities, but now I think it makes me look at them and deal with them. And unfortunately, I don't do this gracefully. But being creative requires vulnerability and sometimes it requires me to be vulnerable with myself. And I hate making mistakes. HATE! Making art has challenged me physically, mentally, and spiritually with infinite opportunities to see all the ways I mess up and make mistakes. But the great thing about it is I get to see myself learning too!
Now that I've graduated and am trying to figure out how to use this degree I find myself in a sort of similar place. I have been saying for ages that I'm going to start my own business and sell my art. It's something that I feel compelled to do. I also want to find ways to teach too. But that requires learning a lot of skills and projecting a lot of confidence which I find myself lacking. Why? Because even though I've spent the last 6 years (4 in college, 2 since graduating) making work and making mistakes and making more work and making more mistakes I still hate messing up. I hate the unsettling feeling of not knowing what I'm doing. I hate not knowing what I'm talking about. I have a pride problem, and I know that just like art, trying to figure out business or teaching will be a huge learn-as-you-go experience. But maybe, just like art school, it holds opportunities to learn and grow and dream like I have never done before. Art school led me places I never thought I'd go and showed me that I'm interested in things and good at things that I'd never thought to try before. Maybe this new experience can do that too.
I look back on my first drawing class and kind of wince inside because I was so anxious about something that really wasn't that hard. Drawing requires some skill, but I think it mostly requires patience and the willingness to keep working when it's boring. I actually learned to like drawing! Maybe, if I'm consistent and work hard, I'll look back at this post someday and have a similar realization about learning to make and sell art. If I can take away any important lessons from my drawing class it would be to be patient, work with my mistakes, and keep trying new things.
For this (recovering) control freak I was pretty terrified of all the unknowns I was about to encounter...and yet I also felt wildly excited about the new adventure I was starting.
I remember walking into the Creative Arts College for my first drawing class. This is, oddly enough, a memory that sticks out because I was terrified to be in a drawing class. I was a weird art student because I never had art classes before I went to college. I loved being creative, but I'd never learned the basics of art. Like elements of design. Or drawing. Especially drawing! I'd seen how good these kids could be and I rarely even bothered to draw stick figures. I was a complete newbie. But I knew that I had to be a ceramics major so I sat down at my drawing horse and watched as the teacher put a skeleton in the center of the room and said, "everyone take about 5 minutes to draw that." I honestly almost packed up and left. (Confession: I am awkward AND I have anxiety. I get worked up over things that I probably shouldn't get upset about) There was no way I could draw that skeleton in the whole class period much less 5 minutes. But I drew what I could and when our teacher called out to stop and turn our boards around to show the class I did just that. And then I waited with a pit in my stomach...ready to be discovered as the worst art student in all of history (aren't you glad I'm not dramatic?).
To my surprise, I wasn't the worst...not that anyone else was either. I could see there were other beginners in the class or people who didn't take to drawing as well as others...and maybe those that just didn't care about drawing well. My teacher had helpful comments on things to look out for and tips on what to try or not to try. And then he said, "I saw some of you using erasers. Don't use them anymore. If you make a mistake just live with it. Or use it in the drawing. If I see you use them I'll take them away."
Wait, what?! No erasers? Live with my mistakes?
One of the many things I love (and hate...let's be real) about art is that it forces me to deal with my insecurities. I used to think it brought out my insecurities, but now I think it makes me look at them and deal with them. And unfortunately, I don't do this gracefully. But being creative requires vulnerability and sometimes it requires me to be vulnerable with myself. And I hate making mistakes. HATE! Making art has challenged me physically, mentally, and spiritually with infinite opportunities to see all the ways I mess up and make mistakes. But the great thing about it is I get to see myself learning too!
Now that I've graduated and am trying to figure out how to use this degree I find myself in a sort of similar place. I have been saying for ages that I'm going to start my own business and sell my art. It's something that I feel compelled to do. I also want to find ways to teach too. But that requires learning a lot of skills and projecting a lot of confidence which I find myself lacking. Why? Because even though I've spent the last 6 years (4 in college, 2 since graduating) making work and making mistakes and making more work and making more mistakes I still hate messing up. I hate the unsettling feeling of not knowing what I'm doing. I hate not knowing what I'm talking about. I have a pride problem, and I know that just like art, trying to figure out business or teaching will be a huge learn-as-you-go experience. But maybe, just like art school, it holds opportunities to learn and grow and dream like I have never done before. Art school led me places I never thought I'd go and showed me that I'm interested in things and good at things that I'd never thought to try before. Maybe this new experience can do that too.
I look back on my first drawing class and kind of wince inside because I was so anxious about something that really wasn't that hard. Drawing requires some skill, but I think it mostly requires patience and the willingness to keep working when it's boring. I actually learned to like drawing! Maybe, if I'm consistent and work hard, I'll look back at this post someday and have a similar realization about learning to make and sell art. If I can take away any important lessons from my drawing class it would be to be patient, work with my mistakes, and keep trying new things.