my watercolor pad is a mess (as it should be)
Last month I wrote about taking up an arts elective for the summer term. Well, the term's almost over, and I thank the combination of coincidences that led me to that class.
I wasn't really supposed to do it—I was supposed to take an entirely different class, but in typical university fashion, there were too little slots and too many students vying for them. I ended up in arts, the first open class I could snag. It's been some of the most interesting stuff I've learned about all year. My professor lets us work with whatever type of paint we like. I've tried watercolor before, so I dug up my old palette and went to class with not a lot of expectations for it.
It reminded me of something I forgot years ago: watercolor is fun. I don't like drawing, but I like painting. I love working with brushes and brush pens; I used to do calligraphy, too. It's a tiny joy, but I love the feeling of using the right amount of pressure, the right amount of water. I love working with gradients. When I paint, it sets off fireworks in my brain, because hey, it's working! The shapes and the colors all come together, and suddenly it clicks: there's something becoming, right there on the paper.
I guess the difference this time around isn't just that I have actual guidance now, but also more willingness to make mistakes. (My professor keeps saying, reassuringly, "This class is for beginners." Though this isn't the first time I've tried it, I still very much feel like a beginner.) The last time I tried getting into watercolor, I just messed around on my palette and chickened out whenever my first attempt on paper wasn't turning out the way I wanted it to. I watched tons of painting videos, but I was too scared to put paint on the paper. I felt like I was just wasting good materials.
But just like anything else, art is a process. Everybody says to trust the process, and annoyingly, they're right. You fail until you don't. My old watercolor pad at home is mostly blank, because I was afraid to use it. But this new one has torn pages, blobs of paint, and multiple renditions of the same things, better every time. It's all practice. Why was I so afraid of practice when I was a teenager?
It's funny, because going to that arts class made me realize that I do still want to be a painter. Not some world famous, eternal icon. Just someone who paints because it's fun, because I love it. I want to be someone who paints the world around me.