I'm standing at the door of the senior painting studio, watching the student artists at their easals. It's 1977 and I am an Art Education major student who wants nothing more than to be in there painting just like them. I have never painted before, but I just know that once I'm in there with the collective wisdom of the professors and the infinite inspiration of God, that my talent will overflow and I will have found where I have always belonged. Fast forward another semester. I am in the senior painting studio, struggling with my inability and lack of knowledge, and mustering the confidence against all intimidation to find ways to put the damn paint on the canvas and make it look like I knew what I was doing. I longed for my teacher to sit down and impart to me the secrets of painting. There were other students who she favoured, upon whom she bestowed her attention and praise. But all I could get from her was "finish this one and start the next one". I h...
Harmonious blends and other artistic musings