I have been told that it is useful for a website business to blog. I love to write, but I write about many things: travel, art, teaching, family, and even politics. So perhaps it is best to begin at the beginning: why do we create art?
I was always bright in high school, and one could either be bright, athletic or artistic at my private school. But never more than one. I discovered the joy of creating art when I had to take an art class, in this case Basic Design, as a junior. I received a great compliment when the teacher said I had done some things “that weren’t too bad.”
Lately, I’ve been in touch with some colleagues from graduate school. In many cases, they have not been able to create fresh art because of the demands of teaching, family or more. In this Covid age, it is very time-consuming to create good online studio classes. I do not envy my colleagues; I feel especially lucky that I retired right before Covid struck.
I create art for many reasons, but foremost is because I love to center myself by drawing, either in the studio or in the landscape. I have two masters degrees, and the integration of art history and studio art is intrinsic to the work I do. I have an Masters of Fine Arts in painting from Cranbrook Academy of Art near Detroit as well as a Masters in Art History from Tufts. I was lucky to snag a position at Fitchburg State in Massachusetts where I could teach both studio art and art history for twenty-seven years. In our small Humanities Department, I could even develop some unique interdisciplinary and Asian courses that included some philosophy and even music as well as art history.
When I go for a “walk and draw,” a long walk with breaks to draw, I treasure those drawing moments. I draw very loosely, valuing the energy of the gesture and shape to convey my interest at the time: backlit trees, views through trees to other hills or fields, the changing textures and colors of each season. By drawing, I see. After several years, I am beginning to notice which trees lining the meadows turn what colors and when, thus discerning what kind of tree they are, even in barren March or November. I listen to the birds, but I am not as adept at identifying them. (I always wish my eldest son, now 27, was with me to educate me about the birds he loves so much.) I soak up the sun, the smells, the sounds, the magic of just being there in the middle of nature.
I think a telling moment for me was at the Grand Canyon in the fall of 2014. That was when I took a sabbatical to the southwest to draw the landscape and ruins. I had a blessed five nights at the Grand Canyon. One day I was at one of the many pull outs, set up between the cliffs and the parking spaces, working on a pretty large drawing (about 26” x 32”), with my easel and drawing board and pastels all set up as normal. Suddenly a snappy red sports car pulls in, just a few feet from where I am working. An attractive young couple gets out, takes a quick selfie, and they are off on their way.
There seemed to be a great distance between our appreciation of the Grand Canyon. I was dismayed that this natural masterpiece was reduced to the background of a selfie. Instead, I would urge anyone and everyone who is lucky enough to get to this marvelous canyon to try to draw it, even if only for 10-15 minutes, even if it comes out poorly (especially if you “can’t draw” and it comes out badly). By drawing, you can notice the many layers, shapes, and colors. Can you get them to the paper? The Grand Canyon is one of the hardest things I have ever drawn, and yet drawing can help you to see and appreciate depths that you cannot fathom otherwise. Even if the drawing fails, the objective may have succeeded…..that of getting you to see more deeply.
Drawing is a way to appreciate the world around us, a way to move beyond superficialities to a depth of soulful spirituality. That is why I create art, be it good or bad. It helps to connect me to the world at large.