do you know how to start something?
I hate being a beginner.
I hate failing.
And I especially hate the stretch of time where you’re trying something new and everyone—including you—can tell you’re sucking at it.
I’ve always blamed boredom for why I quit. Practice feels tedious. Repetition drains me. But now that I’ve forced myself to stay in the awkward, uncomfortable beginner phase, I’m starting to question that story. Maybe boredom was never the problem. Maybe leaving too early was.
a quitter no more
This year I made a choice to do something completely new. I picked something I’ve never done but always wanted to do: painting. We’re fortunate to live close to Historic Yellow Springs, one of the oldest art schools in the country! I like having acrylics in the house for the kids, and we make time for painting all the time. While my kids show creative competency, all I can do is swish colors across the canvas.
In spite of feeling completely selfish and wasteful about taking the class, I wanted to try something really hard. In honor of breaking old habits, I signed up for 10 weeks of painting with a sweet instructor woman I’ll call Tabitha. She has a gentle voice and soft waves of grey curls. Her fingers curl around paint brushes like a practiced sage. She is calm and slow moving, knowing exactly where she’s going at all times. While Tabitha is a wonder and a dream, I’m afraid I can’t say the same for my burgeoning skills as a painter.
draw before paint
This is going to sound stupid; I did not know we would be drawing. I thought it was a PAINTING class, and I did not realize we would draw objects onto a canvas in pencil before adding paint.
Well, I cannot draw. Or, at least not very well. Imagine my horror when I had to hand sketch a pitcher, three little bottles and a bowl.
“Your pitcher should be longer,” Tabitha informed me. “It looks a little stout.”
“Maybe my pitcher identifies as a teapot,” I said. “You know, short and stout?”
Tabitha didn’t laugh.
I thought teapots were cuter, friendlier, and more matronly, like Mrs. Potts from Beauty and the Beast. Isn’t artwork supposed to be creative?
Apparently, not when it comes to still life and painting. We’re going for skill— not abstraction. So, I redrew that pitcher for something close to 40 minutes, and I still think I got it wrong.
Nerves frazzled
Being a beginner means letting go of expectations, doesn’t it? I’d love to say I’m a recovered perfectionist, but old habits die hard. I felt so uncomfortable, sitting in my novice, amateurish incompetence. I was stout shamed and didn’t know what to do about it.
When I noticed a few leftover candy canes on Tabitha’s desk, I asked if I could have one.
She obliged.
I sat back down with my candy cane, feeling equipped to endure more learning and failing. Tabitha showed us a thing or two about shading, measuring objects from a distance, and how to mix water with our acrylic paints.
My nerves must have taken over, because in no time I had a major case of swamp ass. I wish I sweated down the small of my back, or even under my boobs. But, instead, it was all down below. I waited patiently, respectfully, praying to make it to the restroom and find a drier. It took about 30 minutes, but I did manage to get into the restroom, only to discover the art studio’s sink is on the outside of the water closet, which means if I wanted to dry off, cool off, or spritz myself with water, the whole class would see it.
Some things can’t be unseen. Remember this scene from Anyone But You?
I roughed…..and told myself it would be alright.
starting over
Tabitha was pretty unimpressed with my pencil drawings, which I worked on for close to two hours. I haven’t forced myself to work on for two hours straight. I’m a quitter, remember? But not on this day! I kept at it, worked on my pitcher, and was finally given permission to paint.
“Just transfer your sketch onto the canvas, then you can paint,” Tabitha said.
I was pretty sad because I hadn’t connected the dots on this one: the drawing that took me FOREVER to construct would need to be redone on my canvas. Yipes.
But I did it!
Stamina, candy canes, swamp ass, and little Tina the paintbrush (I decided to name my brushes for good luck) got me through the art class.
There’s something to say about pushing through. Because after a while, the right lines appeared on the page. I could tell which lines of my sketch were the right ones, emerging from the lead like some kind of child of the corn. I found the lines, and then I felt good.
Have you tried anything brand spanking new before? Past the age of 40, when you hardly feel like a kid anymore? Was it hard and annoying and terribly embarrassing? I’d love to hear how it went for you.
Namaste, everyday, my friends!
#beginnermindset #artafter40 #trysomethingnew #newyearsresolution
4 the Love of Peace 