When it comes to drawing, realism is a problem for me.
My mother and sister are brilliant representational artists. My sister can take a photo and duplicate it by hand beautifully. For a while, she did it professionally. She was that good.
But I’m an artistic dyslexic. I’ll draw my coffee mug at a different angle than what’s in front of me. Or something will be on the left when it ought to be on the right.
I can’t help it. I’d much rather draw what’s in my head instead of what’s in front of me. They say that representational drawing is a basic art skill. I suppose it is. Maybe my artistic dyslexia is a form of rebellion.
How many kids are brainwashed into thinking that they don’t belong in the arts because they don’t have “natural talent” in it?
Kids who doodled during school got the art teacher’s attention. They were labeled artistic. The rest of us were tolerated during art class. Teachers are deferential to those who have natural ability.
There’s a fallacy about art: You’re either a natural or an accountant. Because I couldn’t draw representationally, I never had the courage to pursue the visual arts in a serious manner… Despite how much I loved creating pottery and paintings.
As an eleven year old, I used to compose music on my trombone. I’d spend hours practicing my instrument because I loved music. But one of my music teachers discouraged me from learning guitar, trumpet or drums so I never got beyond trombone.
Don’t even get me started about singing…
It takes courage to go into the arts, especially if there’s no validation for it. Sometimes I think the only reason I became a writer is because I was encouraged by a special person in my life. It wasn’t solely because I loved writing. I loved music and painting as well.
There’s no point regretting the past, but it is time to embrace opportunities. Art can be practiced until it becomes natural. It just makes me sad to think how many other kids had similar experiences.