Do one thing every day that scares you, said Eleanor Roosevelt. Often, however, we only have the time and inclination to get through the mundane tasks of the day; paying the bills, shopping for groceries, the interminable task of laundry (which is quite scary in its endlessness). Every day is a lot to ask, Eleanor, but I understand what you mean and, since retiring, I have been on the look out for new experiences, some of which could fit the quote. So when the opportunity arose to try a beginner’s watercolour class I leapt at the chance.
The genteel hobby of watercolour painting may not seem like a scary prospect to many but I have a history with art that has left some scars. I never considered myself an artist or ‘good at art’ and didn’t aspire to much in school art classes. I did, however, enjoy pottery classes as part of the art curriculum and for many years as an adult, ceramic painting (if that can be considered ‘art’). Be that as it may, I have a traumatic memory of school art class which ruined any desire to take part or develop any ability.
On the memorable occasion our class was assigned the task of painting what we saw from the south facing art room window. There was only one window on that wall so immediately 20 pupils jostled for pole position there. Not being of a speedy or competitive inclination, I decided I was familiar enough with the designated view over the harbour to begin without the further ado of looking. House roofs in the foreground, a couple of small islands in the back ground and some sea in between. I have prefaced this entry by stating I was not ‘good at art’ and my ‘technique’ probably explains a lot!
Anyway, I began to paint the sea areas blue when suddenly the teacher grabbed me by the ear and dragged me across the room to the now vacant space by the window. ‘Look! Look!’ he shouted indignantly, ‘The sea is not blue!’ His advice was lost on me. I was blithely unaware of the need to explore or even consider the colour changing patterns of the water and as one of thr less artistically inclined pupils I considered his outburst unlikely to garner any improvement from me of all the pupils. Now the whole class and quite possibly the whole school knew my artistic short comings. My shame was complete. I could, from that day forth, no longer pick up a paintbrush with any emotion other than dread.
Signing up for a beginner’s watercolour class was, therefore, ‘a big deal’ and definitely of the scary variety. While I readily and excitedly booked my ticket I was soon wracked with doubt and fear about my abilities and lack of sense for putting myself willingly in another art class, especially as I knew the view from the premises was, you guessed it, a harbour scene with the North Sea behind it!
On the morning of the event I had a mixture of excitement and apprehension. I need not have feared though. Our teacher was calm and patient, explaining different techniques which we tried before working up to completing a picture of the scene from the window. My final picture was no masterpiece. I definitely need to work on painting structures such as the harbour wall and lighthouse but I enjoyed the experience and left with a desire to try watercolour painting again. That in itself is a great outcome for someone with a lifetime aversion to painting. Eleanor wasn’t wrong in her assessment. I might seem scary but the outcome may surprise. If you would like to step outside your own comfort zone to dabble in something scary, go on! Do it!
Significantly Different 