Not many people know I dabble with a bit of paint now and then. I love the idea of a blank canvas — always have. There’s just something so personally rewarding about taking a paintbrush in hand and creating something on that pristine white space in front of you.
I love going to art museums and studios. Often, I imagine artists sitting with a paintbrush in hand in front of that blank canvas as they envision what their hand and eyes will create. Driven only by what lies within them, I have to believe it must be the most fulfilling of adventures as they take that personal journey on that white space before them.
I tend to prefer the unforgiving characteristics of watercolors. There’s just something about the way the paint and water mix together that seems to soothe my soul. And with watercolors, there is no turning back. Once that paint mixed with just the right amount of water hits that canvas, you are committed and must mentally remain one step ahead of your hand that holds the paintbrush. It’s a challenge.
I don’t paint often, and I’m not even sure I paint very well. I only have a few paintings hanging on walls in this world — mostly on walls that belong to relatives, so I’m not sure that really counts. Probably not.
I first became interested in painting many, many years ago when I’d watch my grandma who liked to do those paint-by-number sets. Do you remember? Everything came neatly packaged in a box — a paintbrush, about 10 or 12 little plastic tubs of oil paint which each had a number on its lid, and a cardboard canvas that had an image stamped onto it.
The image — usually a horse head, a playful kitten or a mountain scene - was stamped onto the canvas in a very light blue or gray ink. If you looked closely at the picture, you could see teeny tiny numbers scattered haphazardly throughout the entire image. The idea was to match the numbers on the canvas with the numbers on top of the paint tubs. Using your paintbrush, you were to fill in the spaces with the proper color. Ta-da — paint by number!
Painting by number was difficult. The spaces were so tiny, and the brush always had a mind of its own. Even worse, it took a considerable amount of time for that oil paint to dry before you were able to move on to the next color. Sometimes, I just couldn’t wait and started on the next number, only to have the colors run together or have several ugly smudges across the canvas. On top of that, the finished painting always had a Claude Monet look to it. One had to get clear across the room to really see what you had created.
I’m not sure if they even make paint-by-number sets anymore. I haven’t seen them in years, but somehow the concept of filling in little numbered spaces with oil paint doesn’t seem to entice me today. While paint-by-number sets were a great way to get a paintbrush into my hands, it had nothing to do with creativity. I was painting someone else’s picture ... and not doing it very well at that.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to realize that each of us wakes up to our own blank canvas every day — and ultimately, we can paint whatever we want on that pristine white space before us. Do we want to just fill in the spaces with someone else’s ideas ... or do we want to send caution to the wind and paint our day with reckless abandon?
As for me, I’m so tired of being the person everyone expects me to be; I’m tired of painting others’ pictures. Instead, I’m ready to fill my canvas with huge sweeping strokes, bright colors on some days and dark, dismal ones on others. And at the end of each day, I want to look at the picture I’ve painted and be proud of what I see ... hopefully a personal masterpiece that will tell my story one day at a time.
I think I have to start looking at life that way – a blank canvas just waiting for me to make my mark. Like one of those masterpieces hanging on the wall, not everyone will appreciate what they see when they look at my canvas, but that’s OK. As long as the strokes represent who I am and how I feel, I’m perfectly content for some to like it and for some to not especially care for what they see. After all, it’s clearly OK to color outside those proverbial lines, smudges and all.
We are in the throes of graduation ceremonies. While giving advice to area graduates should probably be reserved for someone who has more experience, more intelligence and more experiences than I do, I would urge graduates to think about the masterpiece they want to paint on their own personal canvasses every day. It doesn't have to be the painting everyone expects you to paint, it just has to be your own.
Color outside those lines. Paint what lives in your heart. I believe the masterpieces you'll create will be awesome and inspiring. I look forward to seeing your personal artwork.
BCR Editor Terri Simon can be reached at tsimon@bcrnews.com.
PCR Editor Terri Simon can be reached at tsimon@putnamcountyrecord.com.
Tonica News Editor Terri Simon can be reached at tsimon@tonicanews.com.