I did it. I signed up for a drawing class. I said that I wanted to take an art class and I am doing it. Our first meeting was last Thursday night. I loved it. I drew terrible depictions of an iron, but hey, I drew something! I’m not quite good enough for the Metropolitan Museum of Art yet, but hey, maybe someday!
The funny thing about art is that it requires things of me that I have yet to master. First of all, it requires patience. This has never been one of my strong points. I know that it is necessary to be patient at times, but I am one that will kick and scream during the waiting. Second, it requires concentration. I am easily distracted. I have always had excellent peripheral vision, which makes it difficult for me to concentrate for very long on anything. If I see it in any part of the scope of my vision, I will turn to look at it. Third, it requires me to stop talking. I like to talk. I’m not ashamed of that. I just like to talk. I also like to hear what others are saying. So, to be silent and tune out the conversations of others isn’t an easy task for me. Fourth, it requires me to let go of the eraser and realize that mistakes are okay. In fact, we aren’t allowed to use an eraser right now. I tend to want my creations to be perfect, whether it be an essay, a poem, or a journal entry. I will rewrite and rewrite and rewrite until my fingers ache, if only to have that “perfect” creation.
I’ll admit, as I was sitting in my drawing class trying to learn how to change my perspective of the things I see, I got a little teary-eyed. I kept thinking about my Nanny June, and how she always encouraged me to take an art class. I thought about how awesome it would have been if I could have called her up and told her the news. I imagined that we might have talked about technique, and perhaps she would have shared her knowledge with me.
So, I am taking an art class. I am encouraged. My work wasn’t great, but the teacher stressed again and again that the point is that we’re drawing, not what we’re drawing. I don’t have any plans to abandon my job and become the next John Everett Millais. (I’d settle for being able to adhere to the mission of the Pre-Raphaelites, which is that if I write something, I should be able to draw or paint something that complements it.) I’m not doing this because I want to become a world-renowned painter. I just want to be able to draw, to paint, to create something full of color and beauty, and not necessarily perfection.
I find it amazing how quickly some of the desires of the heart can be fulfilled once they are voiced.
When I posted about my “resolutions” for 2008. I didn’t even notice how things were starting to already fall in to place for some of those things to come to pass.
I said I wanted to take an art class, so I signed up for a drawing class.
I said I wanted to read more, so I joined several reading challenges.
I said I wanted to discover several new authors, and I’ve already read a book by a writer I’ve never tried before, and loved it.
I said I wanted to pray more, and I realized that the 40 minute drive to and from my English class gives me time alone with God.
There were other things on my list. They will work out or they won’t. I’m not going to stress over them. I am just excited to see that God orchestrates even the smallest details of my life. He fulfills the desires of my heart . . . that statement doesn’t even begin to describe the God who answers my prayers before I’ve even prayed it, the God who listens to even the most insignificant request that I wouldn’t have even dared to pray about. How could I ever doubt that He would answer the prayers I actually pray, if He answers the prayers I would consider to silly to pray?
“Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly, above all that we could ever ask or think, according to the power that works in us.” (Eph.3:20)