I should preface this post with: I love art and I love schools that have art classes. This is a just a little tongue-in-cheek.
The dread comes around 1:45PM Tuesdays and Thursdays. The day was Thursday. The scene replays vividly in my mind. I look around the room, most everyone looks a bit on the ‘joyous’ side. Fresh eager faces – sketch pads in hand, pencils at the ready. In comes the teacher. Up goes the drop cloth draped over a bumpy mound in the center of the room. A clutter of bicycles and assorted bike parts meets the eye. We are instructed to draw the shapes of the ‘negative space’. Twenty-five minutes in to the exercise we are forced to ‘take a creative break’ – I took mine in the parking lot, got on my own bike and rode home. Screw Art 100.
I get home, lock up my bike and enter our little shotgun duplex apartment. My boyfriend looks up at me with eyebrows raised as I throw down my sketch pad in utter disgust and exclaim, “I can’t draw that fucking negative space! I hate art class!” There, I said it. Then I cried. Who cries over drawing the spaces between wheel spokes? Me. That’s who.
It was the first class I’d ever dropped in the sum total of 2 semesters of college that I had under my proverbial belt. And let me tell you how it felt. FREAKING’ AWESOME. I wish I had the wherewithal to stand up during any of the 5 torturous art classes I attended with the words of my son at his 5 year-old birthday party, when he was annoyed that we had to break open a pinata instead of the gifts… “THIS IS A PLACE OF PAIN AND MISERY!” Yes, art class is a place of pain and misery for me.
I am no artist. I married one, and almost all of my friends are crazy amazing artists. I’m missing some sort of gene, that’s my best explanation. I cannot translate what my eyes see or what may be in my mind to anything coherent on a piece of paper…and I’m just fine with that. I feel a little weird admitting I never really enjoyed art classes – they were filled with frustration, tragedy, and lies.
- Frustration: not feeling comfortable with the artistic medium we used (from crayons to clay – it all didn’t work for me)
- Tragedy: the results of my attempts
- And Lies: from the poor teacher who had to say something positive. You can’t say “well, this one has a gene missing” on a report card.
The Lazy Cowgirls sing it best…
In the days of college I learned something – those who can’t draw negative space take Art History. We were good friends, Art History and I. Lectures, viewing art, and writing… I can do that. I’ll take Art History for $100, Alex.
(Yes, yes – I know many art majors take Art History as part of their requirements….I took it in lieu of Art 100 for my ‘art’ requirement)
Pingback: In an Ironic Twist of Fate – I Eat My Words | The Mercenary Researcher
Rutabaga,
Dropping the Rutabaga from your blog title has created a negative space. Blogging is an art of sorts. I can’t think of an art form higher than belly dancing. Are you sure your not artistic?
RR
I’m pretty sure – it might be that I’m artistic in other areas that are not related to drawing/painting 🙂
I’m not so good with drawing. Painting I’m much better at, especially if it’s gloss or emulsion on walls, doors and skirtings! 😉
We all have our strengths and weaknesses, and while it’s a pain to be around people who are good at things we wish we could do, it would be really bloody boring if we were all good at the same things. I’m saying this as much to myself as to anyone else who reads this.
Exactly – but it’s hard to explain to people that you don’t like art class (I love art and I love art classes for OTHER people – it’s an essential for all humans to take thru their lives if they so desire). I’ve found if I plan something out, it is much more likely to be OK – but I thought artists just put stuff down and bam, it was amazing…. who knew they planned too!
I think some just create, but I reckon you’re right and most plan. It’s probably a bit like cooking, you’ve got to know what ingredients you have available!
I’ve been duped by the ‘creators’ 🙂
Haven’t we all, at some point? The people who have the natural gift who seemingly don’t have to work at whatever it is they’re good at?
I married one….
Ouch. Then again, I feel like there’s several people like that in the Religious Order I’m in.
Hee hee – I hate when those people do everything good.
My brother has two masters in fine art — studio painting and sculpture. Me? I cannot do paint by numbers. C’est la vie.
Yes, yes I understand completely.
My sister is a talented artist, so my fear of comparison always kept my own artistic abilities stagnant at about the preschool level. It is one of those talents I wish I had, along with a knack for picking up languages. Or remembering first names immediately after meeting someone. Or creating dishes from scratch that don’t result in hash.
But you’re a damn fine writer!
That’s like expecting every English major to be able to write. God forbid.
Hee hee – only math majors know how to write, Rosemary.
for me it was always ” why am i being forced to take math classes–including statistics–when i just want to do art!?”
Cause yer weird, Lees!
I had studied art for a few years, but I think the request to draw “negative spaces” would explode my brain too. WTF is a “negative space”? Is it empty space? Space in the shadow? Space made of anti-matter? Is it something I’m supposed to draw it with an eraser over a pencil drawing? I have no idea.
it’s the space where you curse a lot and give negative feedback 🙂
I studied sociology as an undergrad b/c my parents finally told me they don’t want to pay for a philosophy degree (prior: Russian & Soviet Studies, Anthro, Archaeology, then Philosophy) …. fine arts would have killed me.
I like your last option the best.
“It’s the space where you curse a lot and give negative feedback” – oh, you mean draw the DMV… 🙂
Hee hee – I don’t mind the DMV because I can read sitting down waiting for my number to be called.
I can empathize Rutabaga. i have never been any good at drawing and have a hard time with stick men (the legs are too long or the arms are too high or too low – I think we should have stick-person models to help practice – ha!). We all have our strengths and weaknesses. One of the things that annoys me is that in our culture we are expected to pursue (and get better at) that which we do the worst – that is just plain torture and valueless. Then if we don’t we are made to feels guilty. Great post. Thank You.
As an aside, Rutabaga, I just guest posted a three part post (all published now) on a new blog that starts at https://julienoblog.wordpress.com/2015/05/18/melanie-part-1/ If you have time, I would be honored for you to drop by. Thank You.
Thanks Paul! I’ll stop on by 🙂
Your artistry is with your words, Denise! That’s your art. I loved my Art History class in college. I could have easily have been an Art History major. Good to see you. 🙂
At least I don’t have to draw negative space with my words!! I did love Art History – I love both things — I just can’t ‘do’ the one…
I’m sure I couldn’t draw negative space either! I’m not even going to attempt it.
It only leads to tears
Forget that. I avoid those!
Me too….
I have often said that I cannot even draw a crooked line… I’m that bad. I also used to say ‘I wanted to be an architect but couldn’t draw a line’
Apart from art – painting / drawing the other art form I don’t at all get is dance. Modern interpretiv dance, jazz etc. Actually all forms of dance – don’t get it.
Hee hee – now, dance, doesn’t elude me… I was a belly dancer in my 20s and did some other kinds in my youth – but I hear ya. I can’t draw a crooked line either – I can string words together – that’s what I like to ‘art’
Belly dance? Hmmm – saw a 45 minute performance in the desert outside Dubai in January.
Yes – my art is also made with words. Not very many people get it, it seems, but many people, including I, don’t get the machine that creates human waste made by that artist, forgot his name, now…
I do like to look at art – I just can’t create it!
I don’t mind looking at it. I don’t always get. And large museums like the Loeuvre was an overload… that rant coming up in one of the Punjabi in Paris series of posts.
hee hee…