Picture (Not) Perfect

"You know a witch's head isn't shaped like that."

My version of "Blue Boy"

This was the proclamation made by my middle school art teacher one day after she surveyed my Halloween-themed creation.

She seemed to take it as an affront. I couldn't decide if it was because she was so serious about art or because she was a witch.

I never said I could draw. But I already knew that.

Years earlier, my fifth grade teacher, Sister Theresita (aka Sister Tear-Your-Seat-Off, aka "The Beak"), had assigned us to draw a girl with a watering can and color it in. Though I sincerely tried, mine was a Dali-esque version, the watering can resembling some sort of Loch Ness Monster trying to attack the unfortunate water bearer. The worst part was, we had to write our names nice and big on the front of the paper, which was displayed alongside all of the other girls with watering cans, each of them a better depiction than mine. (Curse you, Kelly Holland, teacher's pet.)

Nowadays, in our "all kids are special" mode, the teacher no doubt would have struggled to say something positive to stroke my delicate psyche. Unfortunately, I came of age in the era of "if you suck, I'm going to tell you so."

I decided to stick with writing.

Once again, my timing was off. These days, in my profession, words are a necessary evil. Unlike days of yore, when full-page ads were full of words, nowadays we are told people don't read. They want to look at the pretty pictures. So we get two or three words to tell a story. And have to wrangle with designers to make sure all of those pesky disclaimers are included, at the proper type size.

Good times.

In a way, I'm glad I learned early on what my strengths are. I do sometimes draw a little this or that, particularly for this blog. But I have no illusions about going pro -- and I know I'll never see my work hanging on a wall anywhere. I have fun with it, and I let it go.

And I guess that's what it's really all about, anyhow. Letting go.