My Dad, The Artist
Among all the things my father did well, he was an accomplished artist. He employed a variety of mediums including charcoal, pastels, and oil. My favorites were the simple sketches he made for me.
“Dad, draw me a dog.”
He drew me a dog.
“Dad, draw me a horse.”
He drew me a horse.
“Dad, pleeeaaassse draw me the Alamo on this poster board for my 6th grade Texas History assignment. I forgot it was due tomorrow!”
He drew me the Alamo and we received an A on the assignment 🙂
Now that I’m older, I regret not asking him to TEACH me how to draw a dog, a horse, and the Alamo. I could have learned so much, not only about art and drawing, but also about the artist in my dad.
The Artist in Me
Last weekend I purchased my first art journal. It arrived on Wednesday and sat on my desk, daring me to grace it’s 100 blank pages with art of my own. I will admit it’s daunting. I’ve never really attempted to draw, much less paint anything in my 45 years of life.
Today I sat down with my new journal. I painted color swatches for the 24 Zig Clean Color markers I received from my Secret Santa. I’d opened the package, but hadn’t had the courage to use them yet. I wanted my first journal entry to be a positive experience. Drawing has never been easy for me, but I figured filling in rectangles with color would be a good, easy starter project.
I must admit that I am pleasantly surprised with the results, despite my trepidation and fear of failure. Maybe my dad DID pass on a few creative genes!
I hope over time I can find and develop a little bit of artist in me…