If you've been reading this blog for awhile, you know that I used to work on an 18th century farm doing 18th century labor, where doing things the old-fashioned way takes time. But there were 21st century time constraints, like each class having to finish their activity in 30 minutes. For eight years, I have been trained to do slow things fast.
I'm relearning now. I'm taking classes in classical drawing and painting. My teacher's beautiful accent comes over my shoulder as she examines my work. "Slow down, Jodi. Slow down." These instructions are good for me. There are no shortcuts, no techniques allowed--just the fruit of repetition and the discipline of learning to render what you see. She's an amazing teacher, and I'm learning to tell myself it's okay to take three hours to draw a simple egg.
The first hour of class is excruciating. It takes that long for me to warm up, to find my groove. I love the analogy my instructor used: "I would never hand you a violin and tell you to play me something. I would teach to to play and make you practice, practice, practice. Your pencil and your paintbrush are your violin."
She continues, "You must draw and paint every day, everything you see. If you are drinking a glass of milk, paint it."
learning to conquer the palette
work in progress
first stage - blocking in - still life study
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So that's where I'm at. S-l-o-w-l-y, exercising lazy muscles, trying to squeeze every bit of goodness from this opportunity I've dreamed about. Feeling blessed.
"Life I love you, all is groovy
ba da ba da da, da da da da..."