I had my final critique in my painting class the other night. Everyone said great things about my work. My Teacher had a few constructive criticisms that went in one ear and out the other. But one thing he did say to me hit home in more ways than he knows. He told me that my commitment to my work outweighed my emotion.
I laughed when he said it and replied, “You must have noticed a heck of a lot of commitment then!”
My teacher and I have a running joke. When ever he introduces me to someone, or introduces himself to someone I know, he always says to them in regards to me, “Pain. In. My. Ass!”
Everyone laughs and I always say, “It’s true.”
This semester I have given him such a hard time because the frustration inside and with myself had to be let out somewhere. He and I have had intense conversations about art and my future in it. Not all of them have been encouraging. He never intended to discourage me, but he doesn’t know what I have inside me that took his words in twisted them with my own fears.
There were nights in class where personal restraint was the only thing that kept me from snapping $8 brushes in half. There were times, when his back was turned, that I took a paper towel soaked in Turpenoid and completely obliterated every mark I’d made on the canvas. These were usually followed by half hour long encouragement sessions before the next class where my friends would have to talk me into going back.
With all the anger, frustration, anxiety and fear I experienced in that class, for him to tell me that my commitment outweighed my emotion says quite a lot, and I wonder if he really knows what he’s talking about!
He followed up this comment saying that in Art, as in relationships, your commitment has to outweigh your emotion. There are times when the happy emotions just aren’t there, and it’s the commitment to the other person that carries the relationship along. I don’t think he has any idea how hard that one hit home. In his mind, he was using relationships as an analogy to help us understand art, but for me it worked the other way around.
My relationships have all been about the emotions. When the emotions turn from happiness to fear, I run. Why is it that I can conquer those emotions when it comes to art and commit to finishing a body of work, but I don’t do the same for the personal relationships in my life?
I think the answer is trust. I can trust that when I’m done with that canvas it will hold an image that reflects the effort I put into it. I will always have a sense of pride to know that, for better or worse, I worked that painting until it was finished.
But, I can’t trust other people. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put into a relationship, the other person could just walk away. Canvas can’t walk away. You just keep putting paint on it until it’s done.
My Mom said once that she didn’t think I would ever get married because I can’t make up my mind about anything. Even she can see that in love, my commitment does not outweigh my emotion.
Will it ever?
May 15, 2008 at 1:48 pm |
Lonnie, another facet to this analogy: a canvas, like a written story, may have something to say, may have a mind of its own, but unlike the ‘other’ person of a relationship, it cannot leave and walk away. While you pretty much can exercise control on a painting, there is truly no control over another.