Always be a beginner…

“If the Angel deigns to come, it will be because you have convinced her, not by tears but by your humble resolve to be always beginning: to be a beginner.”     RILKE

I am a Quitter and therefore always a Beginner.  I’ve taken precisely three art classes in my life and have promptly quit all three. The first was in the 7th grade.  I was only 13 at the time; sure I was no artist, but still wanting to do something artistic and creative.  The 1st week was kindergarten style projects; potato printing and such.  My highly sophisticated 13 old self was put off by what I saw as laziness on the part of the teacher.  Finally in the 2nd week, we were given a real assignment.  We were shown how to draw mountains and a river receding into the distance.  I think we used water colors.  The instructor asked us to basically duplicate her drawing, but to be creative!  Mine came back the next day with a near failing grade of ‘D’.  I became righteously angry and immediately transferred out of the class.

My second stab at an art class was at a community college, also a dismal failure.    On the very 1st day, the instructor said it was his goal to get a third of the class to drop out in one week.  Apparently he was bent out of shape at the class size and the overbooking of classes by the administration.  (I should have dropped out on the first day).  He ran the class like a drill sergeant.  I thought it was a beginning art class, but he threw advanced perspective concepts and assignments at us the very first week, until one day during a timed drawing exercise I realized I had no clue what the hell he was talking about.  I started to cry and quit that week along with about a third of the class. Mission accomplished Mr. Art Instructor!

My 3rd attempt was about 25 years later.  I had been experimenting with colored pencils on my own and thought to take an informal evening art class.  I had always drawn on black paper as I loved the way it created a ground that made the colors pop.  But in the very first class the instructor informed me that using black paper was cheating.  I asked why, did not get a satisfactory answer and so quit.

By now you are saying I’m a big fat quitter and you are right.  However, I don’t buy shoes that don’t fit.  Just because someone tells you they should fit does not mean they actually do.  Besides, I like to go barefoot.   i-quit

I am a self-taught artist and have come to terms with the limitations AND with the opportunities that brings. What I enjoy most about art is the process of discovery, and although classes would hone my technical skills, it would at the same time kill the spirit of exploration and the delight of discovery that I cherish.

For those of you like me who resent the yoke of convention, or who are trying to regain the childlike spirit of play in their art, I invite you to forget the training, put down the books, silence the critical voices within and without and simply find out what’s next!

A Knocking on the Door

“Art is when you hear a knocking from your soul — and you answer.” ~Terri Guillemets

In my first Post, I talked about the difficulties of writing the first post!  But my goal is to share the circuitous, messy, illogical, frequently interrupted evolution of my art, not my angst about writing.  Whether my art is any good or not is of no consequence.  What matters to me is what I have learned from pursuing art, and sharing what I have learned with you.   Perhaps you will gain some inspiration, encouragement or insight into your own creative life. There is scant little encouragement in this world for anything other than making money.

By the 1990’s I had given up the recreational drugs of my tumultuous youth. Drugs had given my life the illusion of deep and profound creativity.  When you’re high on pot or mushrooms or acid, washing the dishes or putting on your socks will feel like the most creative, artistic, amazing thing you have ever done!


And although there may be some Zen/Amish truth to that, I found my life Post Drugs to be lacking something.  Not being a religious person, and finding the New Age Movement of the time to be unsatisfying, I turned to art.

My journey began with reading “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain” by Betty Edwards back in the early 90’s and “The Power of Your Other Hand” by Lucia Capacchione.

Also “Life, Paint and Passion” by Michell Cassou and Stewart Cubley were helpful in overcoming my biggest obstacle: ME.

     Drawrightside500                                          life paint passion


These books introduced me to the idea of letting go and having fun with the process of art.  What a concept!  Like most of us I grew up in a world Of Nay Sayers; “No, you have to stay within the lines”, or “No, that’s not the right color for a cat”, or “What the hell is that!?” It was difficult to let go of voices that I had long since internalized and made my own.

The Voice of Reason always made an appearance too:  “you will never make a living with art, why bother?”, or “ there are lots of talented starving artists out there “, or “you have to go to college, you have to have connections, you have to make money, you have to sell your soul,  be practical, get a real job…etc. etc.”

All these voices would usually kick in before I even broke out the brushes or pencils.  Paralyzed once again, I would do something practical like get a second job or Do the Dishes.

I saw an ‘inspirational’ saying on Facebook that said, “What you do when you are procrastinating is what you are meant to do with your life” If that is true, then my life is meant to be playing Sims, or binge watching the Shannara Chronicles.  I refuse to believe this is true.

It was during the worst 4 years of my life that I finally gave up the need for art to be anything but a means of expressing myself.  Seems simple enough, but this represented a huge breakthrough for me, and the journey began in earnest..