Through My Eyes

I'm working the book "The Artist's Way" because I'm stuck in a rut. Call it a block. Call it not moving forward. Call it what you want. I know I want that thing called "more" but I'm not able to define what "more" is. I have two books started and that's as far as they've gone. They've been born and they're stunted in their infancies.

It was suggested to me to try the book because many people have had success moving past their blocks with it and because I love art in so many forms. I dutifully stopped at Borders and then ducked into Hobby Lobby and bought what I've wanted for years - a sketch pad and pencils. Actually, I had those supplies already. They are buried somewhere in my storage closet and I knew that I would use the excuse of later and I'd never get to it if I didn't purchase them now.

I thought I might start with small, detailed pieces. I'd give myself the time to sit and draw - even if I was bad. I EXPECT to be bad - at least not good. The point is to spend time in a quiet spot and work in a creative way. I thought I would be detailed. I thought wrong.

Today I drove to the Rose Garden at Hermann Park and found a quiet spot to sit next to a single flower in midbloom. I fidgeted for a bit. Of course I did. Where to start? I pulled out a single graphite pencil and attempted to draw the petals. They fit so perfectly into each other. I worked one way and then another to try and fit the soft strength of them together with black, gray, smudge and shade. Nothing. Did I dare reach for color? Why not? The art I love is all about color. The garden around me was shouting with color. My nose was full of the scent of roses. I reached for pink and orange. I closed my eyes and told myself that I was sitting in that place for my own peace not for rules. There were no rules.

This was about letting art let me go.

I don't know how long I sat there and sketched. When I was done, I felt satisfied. I didn't judge my art. I wasn't there to make "good" art. I was there to let my mind go for awhile. I wandered a little bit afterwards and took photographs of a few of the flowers.

The paths at Hermann Park don't always lead to an exit. Sometimes I have to double back to get to the gate - that's if I want to stay on the path. I can always walk on the grass, cut across and see what's across the way. It's up to me to decide if I want to stay on the well-defined road or set my own course.

Today I lift up my gratitude for my teachers and those who give me the space to walk my own path.



©Michelle Scofield March 27, 2011 All Rights Reserved