Watercolor painting
(This was originally posted on my blog Selfhood Pending on June 15, 2016. It lives here until I decide to remove it from the Internet.)
About one and a half years ago, I was really bummed out about how school was going. I didn’t love my teachers, I was overwhelmed by math and science classes, and the history notes we had for homework crushed any hope I had of maintaining a social life. But, all of my frustration was funneled into a single regret: not taking a true art class. My friend had shown off his great skills, and though he complained about that class as much as we did for any other, I still hated myself for not signing up.
But then, he said to me, “If you want I can show you how to do some stuff, if you want to borrow my paints” (I’m paraphrasing, but that’s about how I remember it) and I realized that I didn’t need a class to do art. I could just do it.
This sounds obvious, but I had gone through life under the assumption that learning always required an outside teacher. I didn’t see any other way to be introduced than being told what to do. Until, that day, I grabbed this realization and ran with it, pulling out childhood art sets and thin printer paper so that I could prove to myself that I was capable of painting. All on my own.
And I did.
This is the rumpled remains of that first attempt:
I am still proud of that slightly wilted butterfly, because it was the gateway to buying my own art supplies and looking up tutorials, and just painting angrily to let out all the other stress in life. I created some pieces I was proud of, even if I took a year to figure out how to stop my paper from wrinkling.
I’m still not very good at it, and it’s been a couple of months since I picked up those cheap brushes, but I want to take this moment to appreciate a hobby for being just that: a hobby. Watercolor painting was never meant to make me millions or even grab some scholarship or get the attention of a college. It never went on my college applications.
But, when I got a fish-eye lens for Christmas,a spread of my supplies was one of the first scenes I chose to capture. I think that is more love than any college essay can give in honor of time well spent.
Watercolor painting taught me two important things:
- I don’t need a teacher or any sort of formal permission to try something new.
- It’s okay to pursue something without the intent of being the best (or even technically proficient).
So, this is me giving you permission to try something new, without any formal training, just for the sake of trying something you’ve always wanted to do.
Let me know what hobbies you love to suck at in the comments.
