Painting begins

“We tend to think being hard on ourselves will make us strong. But it is cherishing ourselves that gives us strength.”

Julia Cameron

(writer of the Artist’s Way I mentioned in An instruction to paint)

Week one – painting begins

When I did my accountancy exams in my twenties I used to shake so badly with nerves I couldn’t write for the first half hour. That is exactly how I felt on my first day of learning to oil paint. My stomach churned, my hands shook and my throat was so dry no amount of water could hydrate it.

Before we started I moved myself to the back of the studio. I thought I could hide out there. But then, horror of horrors the tutor decided the light wasn’t right and he turned the whole class around. I was now at the front, me and my easel in full view or everyone. Thankfully the painting begins with a colour wheel, nice and safe. However, things were about to get much worse. The afternoon arrived and I heard my worst nightmare.

“We are going to start with a still life.”

My head started screaming.  “I can’t draw. I can’t make anything look like anything. Noooooooo. I had to take myself off to wash my face, tap like mad (EFT), and to have a chat with the scared person in the mirror.

I followed what my tutor said to the letter. Two different colours of paper crumpled for the background then items chosen from the table and placed on said paper. I watched the demo then walked back to my place, put on my pinny, took a deep breath and began. Sketchy outlines bottle, then lime. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

I talked my self through each stroke and before I knew it the day was over. I’d survived. After a cake and cappuccino reward I hopped on the train and slept all the way home. Week one done.

Week two – not just me

Firstly I met my young adult son for breakfast and so began a regular date. We had fun trying out various cafes over the next two terms.

I set off for class with my GSA lanyard swinging proudly but by the time I arrived at the studio my inner critic’s cacophony was loud. Full of compare and despair energy I snuck in.  As I sat down I heard the ‘best’ person in the class telling her friend how awful she thought her work was.

Wait! What?

A gift from GUS (Great Universal Spirit). I am not the only one. Others had the same self critical crap going on too. In fact over the next few weeks it became apparent that everyone was running some version of, “I’m not good enough. They are better than me.”

Again I followed every suggestion my tutor made. I studied the shapes and shadows, mixed colours and placed paint on my canvas. Absorbed by the process time flew by and soon it was lunch time. I went for a walk round the block to escape the smell of oil paint and turpentine and discovered a lovely little park.  Joy,  I now had my nature ally available in amongst the concrete and tarmac.

Week three – first painting finished

“How do you know when you’ve finished?”

“Do you feel you’ve finished?”

“I think I have.”

“Then it’s finished.”

As I packed up that day I became aware of something going on behind me. I turned round and two of my fellow participants were nudging each other and pointing at my painting. “It looks like glass Mairi.” I stepped back to look. OMG it did.

Somehow by following my tutor’s suggestion to stay away from trying to paint a bottle, a bottle had emerged.  Amazing! Thank you GUS, I so needed that boost. And now for a very brave act. My inner critic has, of course, piped up. “What the hell Mairi!  Surely you are not going to show the whole world, are you insane?  I am.

I’m sharing it because we should not be ashamed of our first fumbling attempts to do something. We should be proud. It is only by trying we will ever get anywhere. It takes courage to step out of our comfort zones, to follow spiritual nudges and to engage in things which frighten us half to death. That is what this painting represents, courage, it was done with a brave heart.

 

“It’s easy to attack and destroy an act of creation. It’s a lot more difficult to perform one.”

Chuck Palahniuk