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| Pegasus Carousel Horse |
My junior (or was it sophomore? I am going crazy!) year of high school I took art classes from a local artist who taught from her basement, but she focused on giving me some some challenges and then just letting me have at it while she (and occasionally another student) also worked. I found that very helpful-- I had never before worked on artwork in the same room as someone else working passionately on a piece of art. She was very encouraging and helped me tremendously, but it wasn't a traditionally structured class.
(For new readers: I was classically homeschooled from sixth grade and and absolutely loved my education. I am not the least bit sore about not taking any "real" art classes. There simply weren't any available in our town, and homeschooling gave me the freedom and drive to pursue art in my own time and on my own terms. I spent a good deal of time drawing and painting, but even more time learning artisan crafts like the jewelry that I sell in my Shoppe. This opportunity to start my own business doing the things I love was amazing, even more so because my family has basically zero artistic background and yet my parents still supported me.)
I still don't know how I feel about my first drawing class. Structured art classes are an interesting thing. On one hand, being forced to sit and work continuously for three hours twice a week (plus homework), helped me out of pure brute force. By taking Drawing I and 2D design in the same semester, I spent more dedicated time on artwork than I ever had in the past.
Being able to make art for SCHOOL and not feel guilty about working on art before finishing other homework is the coolest thing ever.
Art classes are held in an old brick food factory a twenty-minute bus ride away from campus. The room was oh-so-lovely </sarcasm> and weirdly creativity-inducing in a dilapidated kind of way.
We got to sit at the most uncomfortable wooden art-horse-benches in the world (who the in world came up with the idea of straddling a wide slab of wood while leaning forward to draw on paper which you clamp onto another sheet of wood, which stays still only by magic and lots of muted swearing?). I loved the days when I got to class early and requisitioned an easel and stool. No sore back!
My favorite thing? We were allowed (and encouraged) to wear headphones. I started off just listening to music, but then discovered the joy of audiobooks. It's true that I do have some slight processing issues-- mostly because I'm such a visual person that 90% of my attention goes to what I see and I easily lose track of what I hear. However, I listened to some books that I've read before and the lack of skim-reading and the beautiful narration brought another dimension to the stories.
Drawing I consisted entirely of charcoal still lifes (except for the homework and final) with no pencil underdrawings or anything. By the end of the semester, I felt like screaming:
"I HATE CHARCOAL"
"WHY DID EVERYONE LET ME RIDE THE BUS BACK TO CAMPUS WITH CHARCOAL ON MY FOREHEAD, CHIN, AND NOSE? WHERE IS HERMIONE WHEN YOU NEED HER?"
"WHY THE HECK DOES MY PORTFOLIO CONTAIN ABOUT TWENTY DRAWING OF GOURDS WITH ELEPHANT TRUNKS, SHOES, VASES, AND BOWLING BALLS?"
(Also, don't forget the chairs).
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