RD3

Jennifer Lett
English 273
RD3
Divine Art


Sylvia was an eight year old prodigy. Her most valued possession was a set of prisma watercolor pencils, they were carefully packaged in a white tin case. Each colored pencil was sharpened, each a different size. "Sylvia has ben dra wing sens che guas ebot forr", her mother once told me while we played in her backyard. I didn't realize it then but Sylvia, at only eight years old, opened the door for creativity, art, and personal introspection. (Thesis)

Its fourteen years later, I am twenty-two years old and I am anxiously picking up a stick of black cante for an assignment in my art class. I put on my headphones, the lights in the classroom dim, and I am transported from my body. I see nothing and think of nothing other than my still life --- the task at hand. My assignment is to draw a composition of dark and light textures. Composition, conture lines, cross-hatching, value; these terms once so intimidating become more than just concepts. They are all I see, all I think about.

My Professor believes in me and I see the effect it has on my confidence, I feel like an artist. In fact, I learn quickly that in order to accomplish a successful drawing, I must feel confident. The room appears to be still, but it is not. Everyone in the room is moved. My fellow artists and I are inspired. We work diligently. We force ourselves to see. "Look at the lines," our professor pleads. "Do not draw what you think the figure looks like, do not draw the shape of a pear, draw what you see." This is when I realize that art is a skill. At times, a very frustrating skill. And while the room appear to be quiet, it is not. All of us are thinking. We are asking questions. We are asking ourselves, "What do I see?"

We spend hours committed to one piece and yet we are told, "Do not hold anything as precious, the moment you cannot part with a piece which you find beautiful is the moment that you stop learning." This is unlike anything that i have ever experienced. How can I compare this with anything else that I have ever done in my life? I cannot see myself or anyone for that matter, deleting the quintessential sentence of their essay. It would seem pointless and ungrateful. But, when it comes to art we are taught to understand that the source of this knowledge and beauty is not in the sentence but in the author. If once in our lives, we wrote a best seller, we are taught, at times in a seemingly harsh way, that we can accomplish it again and next time we must aim for a Pulitzer.

Because I cannot hold anything as precious, I am forced time and time again to erase my favorite parts of my drawings -- the details. To me, they are the most beautiful parts of a drawing -- I spend hours on details. The shape of an eye, the deliberate contrast in sizes of eyes. I am told, "Do not get trapped in the details," "The point is to plan your drawing and if you start with the details you might as well be drawing the plans of a house by starting with the window treatments --- it is fun but it will not yield practical or accurate results."

The room feels different every time I walk in it -- dependent upon the previous assignment's success or failure my mood alters. I am a perfectionist by nature but when it comes to art, this quirk is very self-defeating, "The point is to take as much time as you can to revise your drawing, you must never complete the assignment," it's as if he can pick up on the stubborn nature of my thoughts by just watching the movement of my drawing hand. My hand learns faster than I do and at times, it becomes difficult to keep up.

After we have spent hours working on an individual project, putting into practice every element we have learned, we are beckoned by our Professor, "Please stand up and walk around," if anyone is like me, some of us are secretly hoping our drawing falls into the 'pretty good drawing' bracket. I am always surprised by how I feel after this exercise. People tend to think the worst about their work. But, I have never come across any of the drawings done by any of the students in this beginning to intermediate level drawing class and experienced anything less than the amusement and appreciation. "I want everyone to walk around and observe the work you see before you, I want everyone to take an element of each of these drawings -- take something that you like and use it."

In a conventional classroom setting, we are told that plagiarism is not only of poor character and low intelligence but it is also punishable by strictly enforced school regulations. I have always been perplexed by this idea because there are so many gray areas. How many ideas are actually original? Who hasn't been inspired by another? The classical greek philosopher, writer, and mathematician Plato was mentored by the great Socrates and taught Aristotle who in turn taught Alexander the Great the wonders of metaphysics among other transcendental concepts. Similarly, in art Botteccelli is upstaged by MichelAngelo's Sistine Chapel.


Most importantly, we are taught how to hold our instruments; they are no longer pencils, now they are paint brushes. Instruments become an extension of our hands, where a pencil would be held at an angle, as a foreign object, our instruments are held as an extra finger. The strokes are delicate and unpretentious and with every stroke we become modest people.