To be skilled or unskilled? That is my question!
Is there some talent that you’ve seen in others and wished you had it too? The ability to draw was the special skill that I admired most in others. It didn’t matter what medium or style it was in. I liked it all. Among my relatives, the artists were my mom and two of her first cousins. Blessed with this gift, they created some beautiful images.
Over twenty years ago, wow that hurt my brain just to think about it, I remember my mother declaring that she wanted, for the first time, of course, to paint but with oils. Previous to this, she had drawn some simple holiday pictures for her bulletin board at school. Yes, she, my dad, brother, and sister-in-law were teachers like me. Okay, so we like education a little, but I digress. To me, I felt that from pencil to oil was a giant leap for mom. However, over time, she made several beautiful scenic pictures which hang in my house to this day. Two of them inspired one of my stories.
For as long as I can remember, I secretly wished I could draw like her. Even if it was just a good looking stick person but the right pencil and technique needed to use it eluded me. That was until… the summer of Covid.
What a difference a break can make!
I was in my early fifties at that time and had completely given up on the idea of ever drawing or painting anything worthwhile. My mother had given me the idea for a children’s book about some birds. That summer, I spent the time off from work building up the story and imagining what pictures would look good for each scene.
I had, for some reason unknown to me, purchased a sketchbook and stuffed it into a cabinet drawer with the high chance of it never seeing the light of day again. Thinking of the birds and adding in the fact that they lived on a tropical island gave me some great ideas for images.
After doing some research, I sketched out what I thought the birds and scenery would look like. Interestingly enough, the pictures weren’t looking too bad. I had, months prior, invested some dollars in color pencils, another mystery in my life of why I’d done that, and used those to enhance my drawings. Twenty-four pictures later, I had all the scenes for my story. And that’s when my fiery desire to draw was reignited once again.
A new skill now realized!
A few months later, I shared the images with my mom. She asked, “Who drew them?” I answered that I’d drawn them myself. Politely she then asked, “No really, who made these?”
Thanks mom! That’s how bad an artist I—was.
Currently, I’m practicing, mostly now with graphite pencils and all the other little doohickeys used for sketching, to improve my skill. A talent which I could only once admire in others.
