Last year at this time, I was taking a sketching class at the Museum of Fine Arts. It was a lot of fun and pushed the limits of my thinking and abilities. It also made me oddly comfortable with bad art. Namely, my own. You see, even if you can draw, it doesn’t mean that every piece makes for a work of art. As the inimitable Amy Winehouse once sang, “No, no, no.” To the point: I drew a lot of crap.
Hence the bashfulness. As much as I wanted to write about what I was doing, I didn’t want to expose the lesser extent of my abilities.
|Good!? You're in croco-denial! Wait... that's an armadillo?|
But some of it was good! Some of it showed potential!
So, finally, here I am – chin raised up and chest puffed out – ready to display one piece. The good one.
It is also the last one. The classes that the museum offers make you better, so bring your person and supplies no matter your skill level. It was a well-rounded experience – fun, challenging, and rewarding. Best of all, it gave me a real sense of accomplishment. How many other weekly activities do that?
Last week my finacee began another class at the MFA. And let me tell you. She is good. She is… So. Damn. Good. It makes me proud and envious all at once. And just maybe she’ll let me post some of her pieces, because I love them.
A bit of info for the interested: Museum course lists are available here. They cost, in general, $280 for nonmembers, $245 for members. Basic membership, by the way, is about $80, and you can share it with another person - you can split the bill! There are usually 10 participants or less, and, yes, sometimes you push the limits of social comfort ("Hey, classmates, we drew each other with our eyes closed!"), but it is so worth it ("We look like spaghetti!").
Til next time!