Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Art

As a child, I was always happiest if I had some paper and a pen. I would draw, scribble, doodle and colour. Oh to colour, with a rainbow of felt tip pens. That incredibly happy feeling I would get when I had new felt tips, the richness of the colour, the luxury of pouring colour on to the page without having to go over and over the same spot because the ink was drying out, trying to suck more ink through the mashed up point of the pen (yes, i did get a multicoloured tongue and it did taste vile, but I was an artist, and artists make sacrifices).

Actually, as it turned out, I wasn't an artist. I was remarkably average if truth be told. I probably hit my peak at about 13 and anything I attempted to draw on paper after that, still looked I had drawn it at 13.

But through the years I have yearned to reignite my 'talent' and purchased watercolours, oils, pastels in a misguided belief that perhaps my artistic career faltered at 13 because I just hadn't found the right medium. No. Still remarkably average.

The Big One was given an art project at school and wanted to draw a pyramid. This had also coincided with his newfound knowledge about shading. I remembered I had a box of pastels hidden at the back of a cupboard and I offered them to him to use.

As I opened the box, his face lit up, he sighed at the beautiful array of colour offered to him. He picked up a pastel and drew a line on the paper for the first time, snapping it in two. I gasped. He had broken the pastel. I breathed deeply to calm my anxiety. He had broken the pastel. I forced myself not to snatch the box back from him. He had broken the pastel. I reminded myself that they had been in a cupboard for at least 10 years. He had broken...

I let him carry on. Those pastels are now his. The younger two children are not allowed to even breathe over them. His rule. Not mine.

I hope he will continue with his art. He loves it so much. It is the only thing that he concentrates on. He enjoys putting pen to paper as much as his Mum and even if it turns out that his talent peaks at 13 too, he will have enjoyed creating his master pieces.

pastels

colour pastels
young artist pastels

Incredibly, with all that colour at his disposal, he drew a panda.


4 comments:

  1. Great post .... I so get what you meant with 'he's broken the pastel' ... and that pastel box looks fab - all those colours!

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  2. Lovely that he's keen and appreciates your pastels! Still hoping one of mine will get the art bug like I did - no sign yet - just the occasional stick man playing football or falling out of a plane! I haven't painted much since school, but recently joined a local art club and enjoy it more than I ever imagined.

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  3. I was never that arty - I was OK at it but it took a lot of grief and effort! My oldest loves drawing and art - don't know how long it will last. Love the fact he chose to draw a panda!!

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  4. I love that last line. Exactly the kind of thing GG would do - maybe he just needed the colours to give him the inspriation to begin.

    PS - Love your spam comment

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Oooh, I do like a good comment :-)