|My Chicken Art-Winter 2013|
“Just what is the difference between fine art and art, dear?” a wife asks her husband.
He replies, “The only difference between fine art and art is the price.” As I walked from tent to tent witnessing the talent of artist after artist at the Mystic Arts Festival today, I approached each with a barometer of whether I thought that I was capable of creating similar offerings. Truthfully, I think I overestimate myself as an artist.
I have always aspired to be an artist. In 4th grade, I paid a quarter a week to take art lessons with Sister Mary Peter. In 6th grade, Sister Mary Christina’s class practiced a precise replica of lines and exact measures under her direction. Perfectionism and impatience with myself continued through high school and college killing any creativity that may have bloomed. I was never satisfied.
Working through creative inhibitions is not an easy task. Despite my desire to impart a growth mindset and continue to develop as an artist, the struggle continues. As a writer, I have slowly come to understand that with the few decent pieces of writing comes a slew of really bad writing. So it is with art, as well.
Recognizing my creative self and approaching my practice with patience and playful discovery will help that young 9 year old live her dream.