My pen glides on the paper, practicing loops, curves, details. After more than a month, it is easier, more assured, less jittery.
My husband tells me, “That’s art you are creating. You know that, right?”
I nod and try to convince myself. Mainly though, it just feels like magic.
On Tuesday I borrowed a book from the library, 20 Ways to Draw a Tree and 44 Other Nifty Things from Nature: A Sketchbook for Artists, Designers, and Doodlers, and eyed some of pages. There were NO instructions other than “Draw 20 trees” on the page. No step-by-step, nothing. I took that in, and stared at the examples they had given. There were more than trees. I started with mushrooms, there will be time for drawing trees later.
When Dave arrived home I showed him some of the mushroom drawings and pointed to one and said its name – so I’m guessing they were recognizable!
These forays into drawing, doodling…art – they are beginning to print on my brain the basic compositions. First a rectangle with soft, rounded edges – then a wide, shallow circle for the mushroom’s cap. I’m still just repeating what I see already printed on the page. Angles, depth, these are difficult, if not impossible.
I struggle with them. Mainly because it seems as if I am weaving a spell. This is an arcane act to me, full of mystery. Inside my head, the questioning voice keeps up a nervous rattle, You aren’t supposed to know this. Remember, you can’t draw!
It’s nearly 40 years of negative affirmations set on their heads.
I can’t help but think that homeschooling is related to this. That I am learning this creative act in order that I might be a better teacher.
That in re-discovering an ability, one I had convinced myself was lost forever (or nonexistent to begin with), there is a lesson to be shared.
That we can do so much more than we think we can.
That we can grow so much further than we ever expected.
That our skins stretch, our brains absorb, and we are genius in the making.
Each of us, so filled with potential for MORE.
That our children can learn without the need for structure, or neatly delivered curriculum.
How is that, in becoming my child’s teacher, I am reborn a student?