One of the benefits of being unemployed is that I have a bit of time on my hands to delve into things that I wouldn’t normally have time for while working.
I have always thought that I could perhaps paint. My dads side of the family paints beautiful pictures. I have seen my father’s canvasses come alive. Visiting Europe’s finest museums has been inspiring, but I was always apprehensive.
You see, I went to a private school growing up where ‘art’ was coloring in the lines, decorating bulletin boards and the once yearly Christmas craft. Since then during my education has included two art courses, one in middle school and one in high school. Although slightly scared of Mme. Verana, I very much enjoyed her grade 8 art class. We made wire sculptures, learned about depth and perspective, but we didn’t learn to paint. In high school I think my art teacher was Mrs. Roberge. There was also a nutty substitute / student teacher who had the misfortune of teaching our class. I really liked the art history units, carving tiles to make stamps and other stuff we did. But still, no instruction on how to hold a paint brush, mix colors or the difference between acrylic and oil.
This summer some friends left Spain and left us some of their belongings. Included were these:
Full of desire to one day learn how to paint, we packed these up with the rest of our belongings we thought were necessary in Sweden.This week I saw cosmic forces come together with everything I needed to take my first stroke across a blank sheet. Here is my first painting:
The paints say water color, but I have never seen a water color painting so dark. I have a lot to learn, but I really enjoyed it! It’s going to be fun to teach myself.