I’m reading a book about artists and their studios. In it
the author asks them what was their first memory of being encouraged for their
art/creativity. That got me thinking…….who WAS the first person to encourage my
creativity, seriously..….besides my parents……
I think it was my seventh grade art teacher. I don’t
remember if the teacher was male or female (although, I tend to think it was a
young man….) or what his name was…….but I remember loving that class.
I remember how I felt when I was in that classroom surrounded
by all those art materials. Oh, the possibilities! At that time I had no
illusions that I could draw…..or maybe I just didn’t care that I couldn’t but I
wanted to try every single one of the art supplies in that room anyway!
Some of the assignments weren’t what I would have chosen
myself but I was still interested in learning ABOUT whichever medium he was
trying to teach us.
I remember we designed and screen printed all the posters
for all the school events. We mixed paints and learned about color theory. We
spent an entire year studying and drawing the
large tree that was outside the
classroom window.
And we dabbled in clay.
I remember the teacher being impressed that I was making
something entirely different than the other kids…..and different than what he
had instructed. I was excited about what I was making! I couldn’t wait to take
it out of the kiln and see how it turned out!
On the day we were going to get our finished masterpieces I rushed
into class and…….my heart sank. There, on the shelf, with all the other perfectly
fired pinch pots sat my beautiful Egyptian inspired urn, its BROKEN handle laying
limply at its side.
(yes, I see the 'face' too!)
Because the handle broke and the neck drooped the lid no longer fits but
over the years I have come to love its ‘brokenness’……more
than I think I would have loved it if it was intact.
