First semester of college, a declared art major, and following some bad advice, I boldly took two art classes along with several basics. That’s right. Two.
Drawing 101 was supposed to be easy. The first day, we all walked in, all our supplies ready for whatever the professor asked.
“Scribble,” he said.
We exchanged glances, gave nervous little giggles, and then let our charcoal fly all over our big sheet of paper with no rhyme or reason. Random squiggles and curlicues and lines.
The professor walked around, looked at our work, shook his head, and told us we didn’t know how to scribble.
I somehow pulled an A in that class, but I had to work for it. For the final project, he wanted two big pieces, all in charcoal. I sketched a friend’s hands making the American Sign Language symbol for “Spirit.” And I drew a rose.
Our friends would gather in my dorm lobby to talk and hang out. I carried my big paper and charcoal out there, sat in the floor, using the low coffee table, and I worked on shading and crispness and making sure it was just right. And I ended up with charcoal up my arms, under my fingernails, sometimes smeared across my cheek.
For my other art class, which was 2-D Design, we had to use paint. I’ve never been shy about having paint on my fingers … or clothes. I wasn’t then, either.
After that semester, I switched to English as my major. It wasn’t because I didn’t still love art. I did and still do. It was because I realized I didn’t love it as much as writing.
Still, all these years later (almost twenty-five, if you must know), those experiences served me well as I realized that my character Ella Renders was an artist. She’s compared to Cinderella because she always has charcoal or paint or something on her fingers and under her nails. There’s just no getting away from it. Not when she has the urge to constantly sketch and draw and copy God’s handiwork.
So, all those years ago, when I was covered in charcoal, I wasn’t only earning an A in a college class. I was also earning experience to be able to pour into Ella’s artwork and struggles as she yearns to be able to come close to copying what God has already created. And as she tries to earn a place in the Prince Art Gallery.
I guess there’s a little Ella in me too. Because not only do I weave God into my stories like she weaves Him into her art, but I also end up with paint on my fingers quite often (a hazard of teaching preschool). And I still love it. Because it means I was being creative.
Do you love to work on projects even if you know it’s going to be messy? What’s something you consider the mess to be worth it?
Amy R Anguish grew up a preacher’s kid, and in spite of having lived in seven different states that are all south of the Mason Dixon line, she is not a football fan. Currently, she resides in Tennessee with her husband, daughter, and son, and usually a bossy cat or two. Amy has an English degree from Freed-Hardeman University that she intends to use to glorify God, and she wants her stories to show that while Christians face real struggles, it can still work out for good.
Follow her at http://www.amyranguish.com or http://www.facebook.com/amyanguishauthor
Or https://twitter.com/amy_r_anguish
Learn more about her books at https://www.pinterest.com/msguish/my-books/
And check out the YouTube channel she does with two other authors, Once Upon a Page (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEiu-jq-KE-VMIjbtmGLbJA)