Painting Class #2:
My new Thursday painting class started yesterday. Its in the same location with a different instructor. So now I will be going to painting twice a week. NICE! The new class is more formal and a crowded mix of wayyyyyy retired people and middle-aged women (like me, I guess). The instructor is Leslie and she is a working artist about my age (I can't tell). But she knows what she is talking about. This is both good and hurts my pride a bit. ME? Pride issues??! Oh, shut up.
Here's the thing, Leslie KNOWS what she's talking about --- all the art terms and so on. But what she doesn't know, is that I, too, already know them and it makes me feel like she's talking to me as if I am painting for the first time in my life. That's not her fault, how could she know I have a lousy B.F.A. in painting and art history? Any who my pride hates the thought of being thrown into a category of the rest of the class where painting is a recent hobby.
I will have to admit, I am a little fuzzy on my brushes. Yes, did you know that brushes not only come in different sizes, but shapes and lengths and the material of the brush whether natural hog hair or synthetic fibers all play into the application of paint. I think I just earned myself another B.F.A.!
I showed up to class with a brand spanking new 3' x 3' canvas. My intention is to do a color study of red. an abstract. It will be about the joy of experimenting with color and composition. I think Leslie was excited about this because she is an abstract painter and everyone else in the class as usual is painting sailboats and flowers and landscapes and apples. She actually spent a lot of time with me and I admit, as I got started gave me a lot of good things to keep in mind. The truth is, she is exactly the kind of person I need to be around regarding my pursuit of painting.
I know I don't have to agree with everything she suggests, but I am thrilled to be exposed to someone who's critique and knowledge I can trust. Besides, how could I resist her when she dropped the name of "Rothko and pure color field painters .... " blah, blah, blah..... ?
I suppose I won't be getting a scarf out this chick, eh? P.S. I will post an image of the my new painting later.
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Poetry Slam
Some of you may remember the post I did on Lauren's poetry slam she wrote awhile back. Last night she performed it at the Creative Writing Poetry Reading at school. It was a well attended crowd of mostly angst ridden black wearing attitudinal teenagers in a dimly lit corner of the library of the high school. Ahhh, yes, angst ridden creative types in their teen years. My favorite. Thank God they will all grow up and get smacked by the real world, cut their hair, and apply for real jobs one day. And even remove their black fingernail polish -- the girls and the boys.
It was actually great to see this group of about 70 kids (and some parents) be so supportive of each others poetry and having the guts to get up in front of your peers to bear your work. The subjects ranged from lost love, to teen frustration with parents, to creepy shadows to rainbow trout. I lie not. The rainbow trout poem was quite amusing.
As expected Lauren's performance --- and I say performance because she did not read from a piece of paper --- was stellar. There was healthy applause when she went to the mic, and roaring loud thunder of applause and calls after she finished. She beamed. And so did I. That girl rocks.
The "success" of raising a child is measured by, what? Their grades? Their attitude? Their relationship with Jesus Christ as their Savior? Their character? I'm tempted to say their sense of fashion, but that would give away my true character. I don't think a stellar poetry performance is any indication of me raising a terrific human being. But having said that, as a good friend of mine reminded me, its good to celebrate the successes of our children too.
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