I’m taking my first drawing class. Well, I did take one four summers ago, and I loved it, but that class was truly about “mark making” and not at all about technique. My current class (we meet on Zoom) is providing revelation after revelation - stuff I would have learned had I ever taken Drawing 101. It’s a lack of knowledge I should probably feel embarrassed about, but at this point in my life, I say screw embarrassment and bring on the goods… it’s better late than never.

Perhaps I’m the last person on the planet to know that our eyes are halfway between the top of our head and the bottom of our chin, that the outer edges of our nostrils line up with the tear ducts of our eyes, our head is five eyes wide, the edges of our lips line up with the pupils of our eyes, and that there is the space of one eye between our two eyes. What?!?!? Knowing these approximate proportions has opened up a whole new world for me, not that I’ll necessarily always adhere to them, but it’s certainly great info to have in my tool box.

It’s pretty humbling to be the least experienced (and oldest) in the class. While the others are busy using proportion, perspective, shading, etc. I’m fumbling around. (The class is for all levels, and I’m clearly at the lowest.) But by watching what they’re doing, immersing myself in the videos our teacher shares, calling up YouTube tutorials, and recently starting a series of short beginning drawing online workshops offered locally, I’ve actually begun to surprise myself with what’s taking shape on the pages of my sketchbook.

Here’s a funny story about what happened during the most recent class, a story that shows just how much of a beginner I am. We were told to bring five items to class - objects that are “meaningful and personal.” The teacher said this would be a good way for him to get to know us a little better, and for us to get to know each other better, too. OK, I’m game. I like those kinds of exercises. Before class I spent a few minutes going around the house collecting what I thought would tell a bit of my story and was eager to reveal things about myself to the others. That I didn’t “get” this particular class would be devoted to still-life drawing gives you an idea of how clueless I am. The first couple of students shared their things, and I was kind of surprised to see a plant, a large pinecone, and a pair of sunglasses among their meaningful items. After the third person shared yet another plant, I began to wonder what I’d been missing in my relationship with my own plants. My turn came, and I started with my CAMERA, an old PHOTOGRAPH of my sister and me, a music box from my childhood that has four rotating angels holding different MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, etc. You get the picture. Plus, I’m pouring out my heart… “my father died at the age of 97, and my siblings and I spent ten days going through the house my family had lived in for 58 years and I found this music box which brought back all sorts of memories from my childhood, and this photograph is so meaningful to me because my sister and I have such a special relationship, but we had a rough go of it for a couple years and I’m so thankful we’re close again, and I started taking pictures as a very young girl and my camera means the world to me, and I often refer to those pictures from my childhood and realize my style has not changed much, blah, blah, blah. I noticed their little Zoom eyes were starting to glaze over. One woman disappeared for a while – I think she went to the bathroom. At any rate, I got emotional spilling my guts (no surprise there). And I was excited to see what the next person, who would surely reveal at least as much I just did, was going to share about her life.

Another f-ing plant!!!

So, once we wrapped up this part of the exercise, we’re told to arrange our five objects on a table nearby and DRAW THEM! Remember, I have, among other things, a Canon DSLR with a 50mm lens, a small photo with two little kids on a stick horse drawing guns from their pretend holsters, and an antique music box with petite angels holding a petite violin, a petite cello, a petite trumpet and some other kind of petite horn. And now I have 25 minutes to draw all of this. Ready, set, go!

Had the others huddled before class and correctly deduced that because we were asked to bring objects we’d be drawing still lifes?  That begonias and pine cones were in order?

Oh Lordy. You can imagine the angst.

I stumbled my way through and then had to hold it up so the others could see it. What? Oh, that’s the camera there on the left.  Um, well, she’s holding a violin.

Last night, just before going to bed, I came across a black and white photo of one of my dear young Ugandan friends. After tossing and turning for an hour or so, I decided to try and draw it. Into the kitchen I went, and before long I was scribbling and scratching and erasing and smearing and rubbing and soon this drawing emerged. I could hardly wait to continue working on it today. My fingertips are now coated in graphite, and the white countertop in the kitchen is, too. But I have to say I’m really pleased with what I made.

And it was way easier than trying to draw those damn angels.