Monet, I Am Not

I am not an artistic person by nature. Even as an adult my attempts at drawing more closely resemble stick figures a four year old could draw. (Well, not my four year old, since he has unfortunately inherited my (lack of) artistic talent. But that doesn't mean I don't like art. In fact, I love it and one of my long time, unfulfilled dreams has been to be an artist. A painter to be specific. But I'm not an artist and if nothing else, this lack of artistic skill makes me admire the work of others all the more since creating it myself feels so out of reach.

In high school and then again in college I had the idea that I could take a painting class. After all they were readily available and the students who took these classes produced such beautiful pieces of work. And that was exactly what prevented me from enrolling in a class. Everyone in the classes already had artistic talent; I felt as though I would have been out of my element. As an adult I continued to think about taking a painting class but the timing of the local adult education classes never seemed to fit into my schedule. (And I still harbored that fear of being the only one in the class without an iota of artistic talent). I even went as far as coordinating an art class for community members when we were with the US Embassy in Tirana. Yes, I organized the class but due to scheduling conflicts --and a little bit of residual fear-- I never enrolled. So when we arrived in Belgium and I noticed that the local arts center was offering a beginning water color class that  fit into my schedule, I impulsively signed up for the class before I could talk myself out of it.

Once I had signed up however, I immediately started having buyers regret. I emailed the instructor to find out whether the class was really for beginners who had never painted before. She assured me that it was and more over, because I was the only one who had signed up, my five week class would actually be five weeks of private painting lessons. I was a bit nervous on my first day since I didn't know what to expect but my teacher immediately put me at ease, introducing me to various paints, brushes, and canvases. She showed me how to use combinations of paint, water, and brushes to create different techniques. It was all so basic yet it was exciting to me. I was finally learning how to do create these designs that I had only admired from afar. Granted, my painting samples still look like something a four year old would create but I don't care any more. I'm having fun and that is what is really important. I now find myself looking forward to my Wednesday mornings. Not only am I finally, after all these years, taking a painting class, but I'm doing something that is completely for me. When I sit down with that paintbrush my focus is no longer being a wife and a mother, it is about my taking the time to tease out any artistic ability that is lurking inside of me. And that is priceless. I may never be Monet but I'm going to have fun trying.

Learning To Sit

I need to learn to sit.  I'm not talking about the physical act of actually sitting down; I mastered that one decades ago. What I need to do is learn to just sit back, relax, and do nothing.  No reading, crafting, watching television, or playing with my laptop.  Last night I realized just how bad I am about sitting when I commented to Glenn that Sidney never curls up in my lap to read a book the way he does with his dad.  Glenn pointed out that I am never just sitting there; rather I always have something in my lap or my hands to keep me busy. I thought about it for a brief moment, looked down at the laptop that was perched on my knees at the moment, and realized just how right he actually was.

I think I've always been this way.  I don't remember a time when I haven't had something in my hands while sitting in a chair.  I'm the person who, even in my pre-child days carried a large purse that was filled with "entertainment".  I always bring a book in my purse to doctor appointments in case I need to wait.  (I also have a pen and a small notepad in case I need to write anything down).  Living inside the DC beltway taught me to always have some distraction stashed in my car since I inevitably got stuck in gridlock at least once each week.  Receiving my first e-reader was monumental since it eliminated the need to fill my suitcase with reading material when I travelled.   Even on my busiest days I may say that I need to sit down and rest but within minutes I am inevitably thumbing through a magazine or jotting down notes on a piece of paper. Glenn, on the other hand, can seem to sit in his chair for hours on end doing what appears to be nothing.  I will peer over at him to see if he is even awake and he is usually sitting there in a Zen like trance. His mind may be filled with developing ideas but physically his body is at rest.  Perhaps this is why, that after a lazy Sunday of "doing nothing" I feel exhausted while Glenn is relaxed and ready to face the week ahead.  Could it be because I have spent the afternoon pinning new recipes on Pinterest, planning menus and grocery lists for the week, wasting time on Facebook, and researching future trips?  My distractions aren't always technology driven; knitting socks is the perfect portable distraction when a Wi-Fi signal isn't available.

On a recent plane trip where I found that had mistakenly placed my Kindle into my checked luggage I found myself sitting in my seat with absolutely nothing to do.  Sidney and Glenn, along with most of the other people around me, were dozing.  I had already thumbed through the in flight magazine several times on a previous flight.  Even the potential view of the Alps below was obstructed by a heavy cloud bank.  The prospect of sitting still for a full hour with nothing to occupy me made me feel physically uncomfortable.  I just don't do well with the whole sitting thing.  I also realized that I couldn't remember the last time I had found myself in that predicament.  I have never been so relieved as I was when the plane began its descent into Tirana.

I am vowing now to be better about sitting.  As hard as it may be, I'm going to make a concerted effort to keep my lap free when Sidney is around in case he wants to join me in my chair.  I can't make any promises for when he isn't in the room, but this will be a start.  I do have another flight planned for this upcoming weekend.  This time I'm going to be sure to put not only my Kindle but a magazine or two for good measure into my carry-on bag.  After all, this sitting and doing nothing thing will still be a work in progress.