I'M A 'PAINTER'

When I was growing up, I loved to draw and color. In elementary school, I was as fond of 'art time' as I was of history and geography. Math and science, uh, not so much.

My mother, while thinking art was beautiful, really didn't think an art education would result in a career that paid one's bills.

Another road block happened in 7th grade. I can't begin to describe how excited I was by the idea of having an art class. A whole hour every day devoted to art! The class, unfortunately, was a soul-sucking experience. As an adult, I have come realize the gentleman who taught the art class was probably a deeply frustrated, deeply unhappy individual. He did very little to empower me. Rather I became terrified that I wasn't doing an assignment just right. I dreaded showing my work. The teacher crushed my budding art aspirations by making it clear who the artists were in the class. I wasn't one of them. 

I never took another art class until I was a freshman in college where I was required to have three art credits. I took a history of art class. The instructor was a passionate woman who loved art. By that time, however, I felt quite the 'fish out of water'. Most of the students in class were artists who knew so much more about the subject than I did. 

My next hands-on experience with art came many years later when I volunteered to help the art docent in my son Matthew's 2nd grade class. The docent, an accomplished artist in her own right, was the mother of one of the students, . She radiated with joy about art, as though teaching art to a roomful of wiggly 7 years olds was the greatest thing she could be doing with her life. One day the docent presented a slideshow featuring works of art about the weather. She showed this painting. 

Another volunteer, an artist, leaned towards me and whispered, "The left leaning lines in that piece give off so much urgency. You can feel the movement." My response... "Uh, yeah, sure." I really had no idea what she was talking about. I just found the painting gripping.

So, here I am, almost two decades later, trying to be an 'artist'. I have little confidence in what I am doing, but I am having a great time doing it. I feel like a preschooler finger-painting, making the grass orange under a tree with bright blue leaves.

There are wonderful programs available that allow one to convert a photograph into a 'painting'. Oh, yes, I know it is never too late to learn a new skill. I fear, however, it would take me many years to become a truly proficient painter, if ever. And, honestly, I'm too impatient to wait anymore. So today, I gave myself a photography assignment. 

Here is the raw photograph, taken with my iPhone 6 using only light from a bright window, 

    
Now, first finished/edited photograph. I cropped the photograph, warmed up the temperature, opened up the shadows, reduced the highlights, and desaturated the colors a bit. 

Looking at the photograph above, I was struck by the feeling of calm I gave me. I wanted to take that feeling one step further, so I converted the photograph to a 'painting' with a soft, dreamy monochromatic color scheme.