I have grown up
around art my entire life. With my dad’s profession being an artist, we have
never had a bare wall in the house and always had every supply necessary to
make our school art projects look professional. With a little help from my dad, I always turned in the best looking
projects as a kid, and I always felt like art was a piece of cake.
However, later
in my life, this all changed. During middle school (after I decided it was no
longer appropriate to have my dad help me with projects), I noticed that my visual
arts skills were no longer comparable to some of the other students in my class.
But it was also during this time that I realized my creativity came more
natural to me in other forms, such as musical instruments and dance. My
interest in visual arts began to fade as my talent in performing arts
flourished.
Whenever a
family friend would ask me, “Can you draw like your dad?” I would always reply that
my sister got all of my dad’s artistic genes and that I was keener on
performing arts. But this wasn’t really the entire truth. Although I loved performing arts, I loved visual arts as well.
I always have and still do. I have always wished that I could simply pick up a
pencil or paintbrush and produce a masterpiece.
My sister never
had any more help than I did on art projects, yet she continued to excel at
drawing, painting, sculpting, and scrapbooking. When we reached high school,
she was always making the best Student Council posters and class projects, and
I was on the dance team and in the orchestra. My sophomore year, I tried my
luck in a ceramics class, and although it was one of my favorite classes, I
always ended up bringing home unsymmetrical plates or wobbly pots. Even to this
day, when my friends see the stuff I made in ceramics, they think I took the class
in middle school. But hey, I had the time of my life.
Even when I came
to Duke, I knew I would end up taking art classes because, no matter what the
end results would turn out to be, I knew I would have the most fun in them. It always
seemed like my skills never really improved in the classes, but I would always
have fun trying! Therefore, when I walked into drawing class on the first day, I
felt like most of my time would be spent having fun and trying (with a stress
on trying) to improve. I didn’t feel
like I was ever going to have the ability to create an image that I would be able
to say “Wow” to, but I knew that either way, I would leave at the end of the
semester saying “Wow, I loved that class!”
Although I still
feel like some people have a gift and are born with more artistic abilities
than others, after taking this class I realized that in order to become better
at anything, you need to have patience and you need to practice. I never
thought about this much, since my dad could literally draw a realistic image in
just a couple of minutes. But after taking this class, I know I really did
improve. I would always be proud to show my dad and sister my work, and even
they noticed how much better I had gotten throughout the semester. It seems
crazy how far I have come… I remember when I almost had a panic attack when I
first heard the word “shading.”
As I started to
see myself improve, this made me want to put more time and effort into my
drawings. I did not only catch myself saying, “Wow, I love this class!” but
also saying, “Wow” when I completed an assignment every week. I feel like
performing arts will always come more natural to me… but this class made me
realize that I should ever give up on improving in visual arts as well.
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