I admire artists who have honed their works to a seemingly effortless aesthetic; their toolboxes of texture, color and shape are sharpened as fine as a blade. Those artists are rightfully admired, and I wanted that same admiration for myself.
… But, like the square peg, I did not truly fit into that round space. I love my studio … but also my garden, animals, family, friends, and a fulfillment found through teaching art.
I once held the profession of teaching in a nervous hand. It was presented as a career that I could turn to if life became hard. Over time, the teaching of art has been placed on three different shelves.
As a young Masters in Education mother with a Teachers’ Licence Class 7, I shelved the detailed and complex career of teaching to consider for ‘later’. During that child-rearing time my hand turned toward the arts, and I worked hard to participate in many exhibitions. Golden.
As a middle aged widow, the Great Artist lifted my hands to that second shelf and pulled out a teacher of Visual Art in the Public School System. I did not think I could carry such a heavy load, which mostly involved overcoming my rookie sweetness, to face the array of teens, systems, and mandates. My absolute favourite part was building presentations. I managed the rest.
Tumbling out of the third shelf spilled an art teacher who has been blessed with an adult painting group. I co-direct this activity with another artist. How long did it take to come home? Settle the big stones – the family, art and education – into the jar first, and allow the sand to fill the spaces. Landing into a world of adult learners who greet each other with sharing and caring only took 63 years.
Those who have supported my teaching career – my father, my family, my students – I thank you.
Share this Post