She's A Slow Reader

Before my husband arrived back from his trip, I was supposed to have finished making the porch cushions (to sit on). As you can see, that didn't happen. It seems like I always believe I can get more accomplished than I actually do. Everything just takes more time than I plan for. I should plan something, double my time estimate and then be thrilled, and shocked, if it gets done any sooner.

As you know I have been totally enthralled with that drawing book, Drawing From Observation. I swear I don't know the author, Brian Curtis, and I don't work for his publisher. The book, though, has blown me away. I own a ton of other drawing books: Drawing On The Right Side of The Brain, How To Draw What You See, Keys To Drawing, So You Thought You Couldn't Draw, The Joy of Drawing, The Natural Way to Draw - you get the picture. My point, here, is none of the 20 or so books I have, have sliced through right to my issue of the break in the conversation between my eyes, brain, and hand, like Drawing From Observation does.

 

It took me a whole hour to read the chapter on Intuitive Perspective, which was just twelve pages long. I would read a paragraph or two, verify it's words by checking and rechecking the concepts presented. This guy was dead on. I now know why I gave up on drawing so quickly so many times before.  No body has been so clear in their explanation as this guy is. The level of frustration I experienced in the past whenever I attempted to draw anything that was not completely parallel to me and my picture plane was so bad that I simply gave up in disgust.

As a child, reading took me for-e-v-e-r. I remember a parent/teacher conference where some well intentioned teacher told my mother that I was "a slow reader" adding that it was "probably because English was my second language."  A slow-reader. There it was, a label, slapped on me like a prank on a piece of paper taped to the back of my shirt as I walked the halls of my school. I could feel that teacher's eyes on me, her face read "oh, poor thing, she struggles so", her body language was something else entirely, it read "Oh, well, nothing I can do for her." ... and so it was. I went through the whole school system thinking I was inept. As I got older, though, I realized the empty nothingness of her words. Why wasn't anybody asking - "if she is a slow reader, does that mean she is a BAD reader?" I mean, really, "she's a slow reader", what the heck does that mean? The problem with what that teacher said was twofold. One problem is that the teacher didn't realize that I was a thinker. I didn't just read it, answer the questions, and get it over with. I pondered, I savored, and absorbed it into my very being just as I do with every book I read now, no matter the subject, whether it be about history, cooking, art, or anything else. The other problem with what that teacher said was that I believed her. Yes, I believed her, just like I have been believing for decades that drawing was a skill I had not been born with and that no matter how hard I wanted to gain that skill, it just wasn't in me, it was in "other" people, but not me. I could not have been more wrong, or more stupid, to believe that. I feel like all the labels have been finally peeled off my shirt. I am anything I want to be. I am free.

My painting, below, of books that had some ends coming towards me and others moving away, is beginning to change what I believe about myself and what I can learn to do. It still is a bit off on some aspects, but "I get it". I feel like learning to draw and paint has been an elusive, beautiful butterfly. The only difference is that now, armed with my newly learned tools, I have a golden butterfly net. I can spend the rest of my life catching my own butterflies, no matter how long it takes me to catch them, just like reading, they belong to me, every word, every brush stroke, every mark I make. I have one less label on my back.

That, my dear friend, is a wonderful thing.

I will be back in the studio tomorrow.

Carolina

Comments

[Elizabeth Mackey]

Great post!

When I was little they did these lame test to see if you were an early ready or late reader. Early readers were the slower ones, and late the more advanced. Well, because I'm a horrible test taker, I got put in the early reader class :( Which also meant that you had to go to school earlier than the other batch. Who knows why, but I was so mad that I wasn't in the late reader class! I think I was a very good reader, and when I got stuck in that group, I was bored to tears, and ended up helping other kids do their work when I was finished with mine. I even asked to go into the late reader group, after reading some of the work that my friends, who were late readers, were working on. No dice! LABLED and stuck forever!

I know how you feel, and I almost listened to people who said you had to have a gift in drawing. I had this great drawing teacher in college that told me everyone can draw. I'm pretty rusty at the moment with my skills, but I think they would come back if I did as you are doing now.

Caitlin is one of those rare birds though, that was never really taught to draw. She has been doing it since she was two. I have the cutest pictures of her doodling when she was 18 mo. By two she was drawing pretty advanced for her age. She just got accepted to CCA ( California College of the Arts) It is like the Parsons of the west coast.

[Melissa P]

All the beautiful butterflies are waiting for you and your golden net. I'm excited to see the results that come from this "aha!" book.

Unfortunately, there are too many people who believe the things they are told by others, or even by their own selves, about their abilities. It takes courage to ignore them all and strike out into unknown territory. Brava!

[Alicia Armstrong]

Great job on the value contrasts, and the wood grain looks marvelous.

I know you will soar higher with every label you drop.