Reflections on Ignorance-To Draw or not to Draw

     I am a very bad artist, but I was reading an article the other day that encouraged the practice of keeping a journal that records one's encounters with beauty. This was rather profound to me. It encouraged people to write, draw, and do whatever is necessary to recount the beauty one experienced. I do not seem to have any sort of predisposition for artistic talent. Every art class from elementary school up to graphic design in college has been a struggle. I do not understand the dynamics of color (my color-blindness may be partly responsible), the organization of shadows, or just about anything else. This has always discouraged me from pursuing any artistic endeavors. I think this might be rather small-hearted of me. 

    Every human has the capacity to see and appreciate beauty. It is something we can encounter in the most menial or monumental of circumstances. For example, after I had read this article, I was reading in the woods and saw a squirrel in a nearby tree. Prompted by this article, I started to hastily sketch my furry friend onto the paper that I was reading from. It was a beautiful experience; this was not because my sketch was particularly good, but because I was able to exercise my appreciation and love for beauty in a way that I so often secluded myself from. I can talk, read, and write about something that is beautiful, but to be able to translate that beauty in the primary way I receive it, through my eyes, is something different and special. The squirrel was simply minding his business, although I don't know if he was pleased with my presence, but he was able to serve as means of communicating the beauty that is etched into every aspect of nature. My attempt to draw him served as a means of communicating my appreciation for that moment, for his existence. Perhaps this is all rather dramatic, but this simple moment made me aware of the diverse means of taking in and communicating beauty. 

    I also had the chance to paint recently. A friend wanted me to paint flowers with her. I wasn't exactly thrilled about the opportunity, but again I was left with an awareness of the mystery present in these moments of creativity. We are creative people. Termites can build their mounds and coral can build their reefs, but their motivations are not the same as ours. Our motivation to exercise our creative capacities is always first prompted by an encounter with something beautiful. That in and of itself is something to appreciate. From this encounter we can then move to a sort of "answer" to this beauty. What is our response to something beautiful? Does our small-heartedness just cause us to shrug our shoulders and move on, or are we motivated to act? I think this is what ties the squirrel, article, and flowers together. I have been prompted by something beautiful in order to then create as a response. I hope that in the future I can put my fears of artistic incompetence aside and simply answer the call that I have heard in my heart. More sappy thoughts to come in future posts on this blog.