walkingman

Growing up I always wanted to be an artist. My parents encouraged my dream by enrolling me in art classes and taking me to visit museums, art galleries, and art shows. Yet no matter whether I took a class in water color, acrylics, drawing, sculpting, or pottery, the end result was the same, shame. I was no artist. Many a fine teacher swore that he or she could teach me their particular art skill. Then after many tears on their part, they gave up in defeat as they realized I was an imbecile. I had the drive, the passion, but the skills of a rock. I had one fine gentleman who spent hour upon hour trying to teach me the simple act of three point perspective. I understood the theory entirely. Yet when pen went to paper it was a different story. My brain and eye said go this way and the fingers and hand went another way. The teacher would grab my young hand and gently lead me the right way. But as soon as he let go off the proper path I would go and throw off that fine three point perspective. I went through sheet after sheet of paper and I think in order to save the trees he stopped me. We both realized that I was not an artist. I would never be an artist. I had tried and failed at contemporary, modern, classical, and even finger painting. Then another teacher heard of my anguish, my desire, my dashed hopes. She came to my rescue. She said maybe you can be an artist but one in the creative arts. She knew that I had a love for books, for reading, and for writing. She suggested that maybe I had been looking in the wrong area. I listened to hear and found my path in life. I discovered my art. I became an artist. Instead of painting a picture on a canvas I now paint a picture with words on a page. Instead of sculpting a bust out of rock I create out of words an image that grabs the readers attention. I am now putting pen to paper but this time my mind and fingers are in unison and they create this beautiful and moving art. All those years I thought my future lay in the visual arts and yet if I had been honest with myself I would have admitted that I sucked as a visual artist. Thankfully I found a teacher who offered me an alternative view of my dream. Instead of shutting the door on my dream she gave me another perspective on it. I still go to museums, art galleries, and art shows but now I also go to libraries, poetry readings, and book stores. I have learned to listen to lyrics and relate them to poetry. I have learned to expand the definition of artist and am happy to call myself one. I still pick up a piece of paper once in a while and draw something and yes I still suck at it, but now I just do it for fun. One of the things I love about this site is the quality of the artwork both in the tattoos and in the photography. I may not be able to draw the artwork or take the photos but I can appreciate the quality of the work.