Turnabouts
“…one has to go through many things before one is able to do so…”
Art is essential to the happiness of my household. Therefore, as most of you know, I’ve managed to carve out a dedicated art time by holding an art class once a week with my kids. We all sit around the dining room table, put on classical music, and draw together. By necessity, it is a class of free wheeling, fast fun. With only an hour or so of interrupted, noisy, boisterous time to create, it is not a time for seriousness or hesitation1. I posted one of these class drawings on notes recently and it was so well received that I felt compelled to share it here, too:
My favorite art teacher once said to never throw out old work because it is worthwhile to look back and see how far you’ve come. I took this advice to heart. The above drawing spans over twenty years; if you look closely you can see a timid line drawing in pencil from my first real art class. It’s a stingy, piteous little line, giving out very little in the way of description. The whole thing is unfinished as I was so uncertain and clumsy that I could not complete the drawing in the time allotted.
Rediscovering this drawing in a pad of paper many years later, I decided it was trash and stuck it under my paint pallet to catch dripping paint and to wipe my brushes on.
I keep a stack of what I like to think of as pre-loved and broken in paper under my bed with the rest of my art supplies. It’s the perfect kind of paper for those quick and rowdy sketches with my kids. So it was in this strange discard pile of used paper that this wrinkly, torn, and misused drawing found its abode after being discarded for the second time. Reaching under the bed, brushing aside the dog-hair dust bunnies… I pulled this particular paper free of the pile.
Elation! Followed swiftly by revelation as this paper spoke to me of what it would become, and I could already see the vivid blooms florid among the long forgotten paint splotches.
The way in which the final layer pastel drawing came roaring boldly into existence in about 30 minutes— arriving at its terminus-turnabout fully in bloom— would have astonished the me who could not complete the first layer pencil sketch. The me who dismissed the early work as garbage and created the colorful second layer paint chaos would have been equally surprised.
Peering through those layers of long learning and history, a story of flourishing and evolution unfolds. So much life and art has been carried out in the space between the starting point and the ending point of this piece! My above mentioned favorite teacher could not have been more accurate in her wisdom.
The name I bestowed on my long simmering creation—This Is Not the Moment for Hesitation—came from a passage in one of Vincent van Gogh’s letters to his brother, Theo:
“It is in life as in drawing: one must sometimes act quickly and decidedly, attack a thing with energy, trace the outlines as quickly as lightning. This is not the moment for hesitation or doubt; the hand may not tremble, nor may the eye wander, but must remain fixed on what is before one. And one must be so absorbed in it that in a short time something is brought onto the paper that was not there before, so that afterwards one hardly knows how it has been hammered off.
To act quickly is the function of a man, and one has to go through many things before one is able to do so. The pilot sometimes succeeds in making use of a storm to make headway, instead of being wrecked by it. This is not a thing that I have sought, but it has come across my path and I have seized it.”2
I believe that sums the whole thing up perfectly.
In our Literature for Lunch lessons3 I just finished reading Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol to my kids. They were enthralled with the book, which has delighted me to no end as I wasn’t sure if some of the longer sentences and more obscure words would put them off. Of course most of you know that the book centers around Scrooge, who is a stingy, miserly, miserable man. Through some supernatural happenings he learns the true meaning of Christmas. Truly, one of the greatest and most beloved literary turnabouts. So, in the spirit of that cherished, if not ubiquitous book, I would like to humbly offer you a PDF download of today’s art. I also have prints of Hesitation available (as well as the original art) for sale, and I’ll link both of those things at the bottom of the letter.
Art day came early for us this week, as the weather was so fine that in short order, we abandoned our regular studies (it was also not the moment for hesitation) and went on a sketching field trip to a local park.
Sadly I couldn’t take my crazy paper pile with me and had to be satisfied with the less adventurous but more portable sketchbook.
Who am I kidding…we still had art day on Friday, spending the day museum hopping and outdoor sketching again, which perhaps I will share in another post. Friday was the last day of school for us until January, and we are deserving of the break. I’m proud of us this year, we’ve kept on track and are about half way through our school year. Right on target.
Thank you for giving me the gift of your time and attention today and everytime you visit me here. I am so grateful.
Here is my promised gift to you, (after I’ve held your attention hostage!) a download of today’s art to do with as you please:
And for those of you who would like to purchase or just browse my work, here is my Etsy shop:
I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas, and the happiest of New Years. May the glories of this season bring you the joy and cheer you all so richly deserve.
“I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!”4
-Jenn
P.S. If you have any turnabout stories you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear them.
Or paint. I almost exclusively use this time to draw, often with pastels.
Irving Stone, Dear Theo, p. 114
My solution to sneaking my own desperately needed literature break in
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, p. 121
Jenn, this is a beautiful story and perfect for the Christmas season. I adore your flower image and how it took 20 years to turnaround and transform! Also how there is no room to hesitate. I love your beautiful calling. And those art field trips!!! Sending you much love this Christmas and always. Thank you for sharing your life with us.
Love, deb. oxox
i am so having art class with my daughter now, i love that idea