BALLARD: Time to create lets inner artist shine
What happens when you gather a group of people and give them only sharpened pencils and blank drawing pads? The possibilities are endless when you invite our inner artists out to play.
There is something magical about creating. It's a wonderful process to watch. That's why I am so happy I decided to begin teaching drawing lessons early last year.
People of all ages and from all walks of life entered the classroom on the first day eager to learn and to create. They appeared a little apprehensive as they found seats at the group of tables forming a large rectangle in the center of the classroom. Most of them didn't know the other classmates -- or me, for that matter. I handed out their supplies as they sat patiently waiting for their first assignment.
It doesn't take long before a group of students feel comfortable enough to share tiny bits of their lives with each other.
Almost immediately, we learned some of them are actually mothers and daughters who had chosen this particular class to spend quality time together. Others brought their best friends instead of coming alone. Everyone else in the room bravely opted to attend solo in search of a new and creative adventure.
Making the sharpened dark point of a pencil glide across the drawing paper can be very daunting. Who am I kidding? A stark white piece of paper can be plain out scary! As the teacher, it is my job to convince my students to go ahead and make the first line without fear.
"Unless you begin, the blank piece of paper can't be transformed into a drawing," I told them.
Anytime a group of people are placed in a situation where they will be working on the same project side by side, competition enters the room without an invitation. Eyes quickly dart around to see how others are proceeding. During the first two-hour period, I explained that we had not gathered to compete; our purpose was to create and grow.
The second week slowly melted away the newness of the drawing process. It also found people feeling more comfortable in chatting with the other artists. The grip on their pencils became a little more confidant and the cloud of anxiety floated away. Complete strangers just a week before, the budding artists began to form friendships as each drawing developed.
Each attendee brings something besides pencils and paper to the table. With a story here and an opinion there, the group blends together just like shadows blur to various shades of gray in their drawings.
Then, something delightful happens that always makes me smile. We all learn a lot more than just how to draw.
The subjects we've discussed while drawing are as varied as each week's still life. We've covered everything from current politics to recipes for cheese straws. We've learned the difference between crocheting and knitting. (Something I must confess I didn't know.) In our minds, we've also attended bridal showers, gorgeous weddings, heart-felt church services and even elaborately detailed vacations around the world.
We've shared stories of days gone by with each attendee gladly offering a personal memory that, without fail, triggers another one from someone else. We've discussed people's jobs and careers both current and in the past.
Our current drawing group consists of retired schoolteachers, high-end career professionals, an assistant district attorney, a midwife, a farm wife and a landscaper -- just to name a few. Many of them make the drive from surrounding counties and cities and say they wouldn't miss even one session.
We strive to forget about the hustle and bustle of our lives and all the negativity continually popping up in our world. Within those walls and sitting at those tables, we all find a little comfort and peace. The two hours fly by before we even realize it. We are all so busy creating and reminiscing that we forget about the time.
Our drawing lessons become therapeutic. We form new friendships based on memories, laughter and good times. We realize we are all more similar than we are different. There's something about the creating process that melts away daily tension and welcomes inner peace.
Everyone leaves the room feeling better than when they arrived -- including the teacher!
When art pads are closed and supplies are gathered, I'm sad to see our creative time come to an end. Turning out the light in the classroom, I always remind myself that next week will bring a new drawing assignment, an abundance of interesting stories and a way to get in touch with the artist within us. And, who knows? If we are lucky, perhaps some cheese straws.
Mark Ballard's column runs each week in The Telegraph. Send your questions or comments to P.O. Box 4232, Macon, GA 31208; call 478-757-6877; email markballard@cox.net; follow him at instagram.com/markcreates; or become a subscriber to Mark's Facebook page.
This story was originally published February 20, 2016 at 4:52 PM with the headline "BALLARD: Time to create lets inner artist shine ."