Sunday, September 12, 2010

Color Me Joyful!

For a few years now I have been attending a wonderful art class in my neighborhood. Held in the basement of my art teacher Johanna's home, it is an exciting time of creativity, joy and expression. There are only four students, each working on their own pieces, in different mediums and styles, and at different levels of accomplishment and talent. There is nothing quite like watching the creation of a piece of art, from an idea or an image, to the first colors that caress the blank white canvas. As the layers are added and defined, it begins to take on a life of it's own, guiding you and showing you where  the strokes should go, whether to put in more light or shadow, what dashes of color will suddenly bring to life what was once upon a time flat or uninteresting. Then there is the final reveal, when the piece has reached it's culmination, and there is nothing more to do, but put aside your brushes and paints, and with a little bit of sadness mixed in with the joy, acknowledge that it is finished.

I am not an accomplished artist by any stretch of the imagination, but I love this safe place where I let go of the inhibitions and insecurities, the stresses and challenges of everyday life and revel in the new and undiscovered. I still need to call on my teacher for help and advise, still not quite confident in my own abilities, but that's okay, for each of us it is a process, some learn quicker than others, but all of us are on the journey.  When I first began I was quite literally scared of color. An Indian scared of color, now there's an oxymoron! I was afraid of failing, of choosing the wrong color for the walls of my house, literally paralyzed with the very thought. I began art out of fear and curiosity, would I discover a creative bone in this body of mine, however small or insignificant that it may turn out to be, could I bring it to life? What I discovered was far more than the breadth of my imagination at the time could ever have conceived of, a treasure trove of color and beauty, of wonder and adventure, and of joy and fulfillment.

But it is not just art which makes this time so special, it's that special camaraderie that is shared during these moments. The walls echo back not silence, but laughter and banter, suggestions and stories. Stories of life. Some happy, some sad, but all important. It is a time where words, music and art intertwine to create a tapestry rich with detail and texture. Life's palette, with all it's vividness and expression. Fear is no longer the word I associate with art, in fact, it is perhaps the last word I would choose. My imagination has woken from the long sleep it has been in since childhoods last glimmer, and now feels the joyful aches and pains of muscles long out of use, leaping and twirling in the splashes and sprinkles of color that have become this novice artists palette.

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