The last time I painted I was five and I believe I used my fingers. I’ve never been good at art – wait, let me rephrase that! I have been TOLD I am not good at art several times in my life.
I believe it was in second grade that the kind-spirited teacher gathered her class around saying: “Oh, no, look what Ellen did,” like I’d made a different kind of mess than my art project.
Then there was the time we were crafting the ubiquitous clay ashtrays – I had no idea that the clear goop we covered our dough with would turn brown in the kiln, nor that any spots I missed would be glaringly obvious, nor that the teacher would say: “Well, we can get rid of Ellen’s sad attempt.”
And how could I forget the Christmas ornament? It was an ephemeral, fragile, flour and paste-covered string thing. I thought mine was beautiful. As I got off the school bus and handed it to my Dad he had it crushed before I could get out: “Lookie what I made”. He said he was sorry, “I thought it was trash”.
Needless to say, I haven’t had a strong yen to try anything “art-y” again. But the same friend that could teach me to somersault underwater has a lot of patience in the painting department as well. You see above the results of my efforts. It made me enormously happy, and may I just say? Wow! Lookie what I made!
I would love to hear your success stories!
ellenoutloud.com
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