I can’t draw. I have proof. I took a drawing class in college as an elective. I got a C in drawing. Who gets a C in drawing?
My whole life I have wanted to draw. I have wanted to paint. To make pottery. To write an amazing song. To write a poem. To act in a film. To sing my heart out.
In 4th grade I was in art class sitting across from my friend Sarah. She could draw AND she could write in block letters; a thing that I wanted to do SO bad. Sarah was a good friend (we still try to keep in touch!) and I say she was a good friend because she would complete my art assignments for me. I would try to do the assignment myself, but I would get frustrated, look at hers and everyone else’s in my class and quit. One day, we were assigned to draw a picture of ourselves. That’s pretty hard, don’t you think? Regardless, I tried SO hard to draw this and color it in with lovely colored pencils. I think Sarah may have helped me with the nose (one of the hard parts of drawing a face, I believe). We spent several sessions completing our drawings. I worked relentlessly on my hair (not the shading on my upper lip…lol) making sure that I fully captured what it looked like.
When it was completed, I was so proud. I had done it…with some help…but I still did it. I decided to give it to my Mom for Mother’s Day. I thought she would be thrilled and amazed at my expert artistry. When she opened it I waited for gasps and ooohs and ahhhs. Nothing. She smiled and said “thank you, it’s beautiful”. I was still convinced that she loved it and would hang it in our home…front and center. Nope. It went in her closet on the top shelf…the one no one ever touches until spring cleaning time.
OK, before you say, “Jenn that is a horrible story”, let me just mention that my Mom is a wonderful woman and one of my best friends. She of course didn’t know she was hurting me. You have to understand my Mom’s personality. She hates clutter. Every year, I was forced to purge of everything in my room that I wasn’t using anymore: clothes, shoes, decorations, papers, junk. She was probably very proud of me and my effort, but the dream I had for the drawing didn’t come true. It was put in the closet to be thrown away later.
Drawing is not one of my talents. In my drawing class in college I did one assignment that I got the highest grade for. And guess what? It’s hanging in my kitchen! It’s a stippled drawing of a pear. The shadow around the pear isn’t a shadow, really. It’s like a triangle protruding from the bottom. It didn’t quite work out the way I planned. It sucks, but it reminds me that I’m not perfect. It reminds me that I can’t do it all. But it also reminds me that just because I lack in the drawing department doesn’t mean I should give up. Just because I can’t sew doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. Just because I can’t paint doesn’t mean I shouldn’t paint pottery for fun. There’s no pressure. I’m not in a contest. I think I am creative, by nature, and maybe I’m not the best, but I’m good at other things.
I love my stippled pear drawing. It’s really an example of me.