For as long as I can remember I always wished I could fit in, to have my own little place in amongst a group (preferably without posing or pretending, but if it needed a little help, I'd do it). For a while I was in theatre, so I was in the theatre group; I was a music major for two years, so I was one of the Music Elite, and I loved that, because it was real.
I've always been fascinated by Art People; they seem so free, so themselves, interesting and unique. I never attempted being a part of the Art Crowd; when they deserted the art room, though, I'd take my homework in there and sit by myself in the huge room, the high ceilings, the enormous windows flooding the tables with light; and I'd breathe in (not too deeply, heh) the scent of oils and acrylics, the powdery, clinging dust of chalks, the sharpness of turpentine, and just revel in being.
This semester I'm taking a drawing class, and there's a gorgeous room here with tall ceilings, skylights, and so much light and air I could go crazy with the sheer joy of it. My room is messy, but it's messy with art things: huge pads of paper, Lincoln Log-esque stacks of chalks; stamps, ink, charcoals, tape, tubes of watercolours, and hairspray (a cheap fixative so the chalk won't smudge) -- and I love it so much. I've always been thrilled at the feeling of chalks, the texture of papers, the clear, smooth watercolours, but I never knew how to wield them properly. I am so excited for this semester, to finally learn how to use them all, to have my hands make what my eyes want them to.
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I've been dreaming of an old house with wooden floors and creamy walls and big, big windows...and no furniture, just easels and boxes of pastels (or pencils or paints) and newspaper spread out on the floor...and painting all day with a short lunchbreak...starting in the morning...and free muffins in the old fashioned kitchen. Because that's how my first (and only) real art class was! In an old fancy house they turned into a museum that they cleaned out for the class. And there were blueberry muffins in the kitchen, which just added to the romance, even though I never ate any.
Muffins, sunlight, shiny wooden floors, painting all day, and so many artists with funky personalities...mmm.
So I set up my easel here in the kitchen corner, with my little art table and old newspapers, and someday I'm going to make muffins and paint ALLLL day!
I know exactly how you feel.
Ahhh... what a delicious post. ;-) It IS so scrumptious to get back to art. I've been just dizzy with delight, working on sample boards out on my little balcony. Starting my own business doing faux work and murals is truly like a dream - I can't believe I get to do something I love so much and get PAID for it!!!! I'm so glad you're taking a drawing class! You will do so well, I know - you have such an eye for beauty. People that do just DO, and it can't be explained. Silly people that don't know me very well look so incredulous when they hear that I'm giving up my office management position to PAINT. *insert dramatic gasp* "I can't imagine! Have you done this before? How in the world will you know what to do?" Heh - and in reality, that is the very least of my worries. How do I know what to do? I don't know... You might not know either... But when you start to do it, it just comes. It truly is a gift. One of the great God-given blessings of life.
P.S. *waving* Hi Christina! I should have said "Hi" long ago! ;-p
P.P.S That house sounds like so entirely perfect, it WOULD seem a dream. If I could have a house like that... Oh my. ;-) I'd never quit! They'd have to tie me down and make me eat and sleep.
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