I’m No Artist

 Over a year ago, I enrolled in art classes. I’ve always enjoyed drawing, so it felt like a worthwhile use of my time. It was also my attempt to overcome the loneliness and disruption of relocating to India. I figured that instead of hoping for change from people and places that felt too foreign to me, I was better off being the change that I needed in my life. I went for a few months, and then I took a break for various reasons. I returned to the classes a few months ago. Last week, my instructor asked me whether the classes made any difference in my life off the sketch pad. I gave him a couple of responses, but the question stayed with me, because I felt that I hadn’t fully answered the question. At least not for myself. As I searched for more, I realized that I was learning more than art. In this week’s blog, I share what having this hobby has meant to me and how it’s become a way for me to strengthen my mental health.  

Initially, my assignments involved the basics of learning to draw and shade common shapes. Every week, I still practiced drawing and shading, but the subjects increased in difficulty. From shapes, I moved on to objects after which I moved on to animals. Now, finally, I’ve landed on portraits. As a side note, portraits are complicated, especially when it comes to capturing the emotion behind the eyes.  

Anyway, when I head to class weekly, I either begin a new assignment or work on finishing one from the previous weeks. Without fail, all of the classes begin with a deep breath wondering how the hell am I going to complete the assignment before me. I am at a total loss, but I start with one line, then another and another. Slowly, it all falls into place, and I am amazed at what I’ve accomplished. Those moments teach me that when life feels overwhelming or stressful, I have to act. I have to take the smallest of actions to surpass feeling stuck or paralyzed with anxiety, and if I want to see change, I have to be the change. 

When my work doesn’t look or feel right, I erase it and redo it. I go at it until I am satisfied. There’s an ulterior motive as well, which is knowing that if I do the work halfheartedly, my teacher will ask me to do it again anyway.  So, I might as well do my best from the get-go. My best never means perfection, because there is a deep chasm between perfection and 100% effort: the former focuses on the result and the latter focuses on the process.  

I’m aware that even if my teacher asked me to revise my work, it would not be to perfect it, but it would be to rise to my capabilities. Those moments of erasing and improving my work teach me that how I do anything is how I do everything. After all, mindset and habits are formed in all areas of life, so how I approach one area reflects how I approach the others. Additionally, if I gloss over my mistakes on paper, then I will do the same in real life. And, if I don’t take pride in my effort on paper, then I won’t take pride in my effort in other areas of my life. In other words, I’ll be so hung up on perfection that I’ll discount any progress that I’ve made.  

Often when I leave for class, I am in a rush, because of poor time management on my part and the need to do it all before I head out. At least once a week, thanks to my art class, I am reminded that I can’t be there for others and myself all the time. I am reminded that only I can prioritize myself. I am reminded that only I can make time for what matters, because there will never be enough hours in the day. Unfortunately, something or someone else will always be more important if I let them. At the end of the day, the classes are a much-needed lesson about boundaries and priorities.  

Sometimes, the assignment feels so hard and impossible. I literally want to walk away from it, but then I realize that I still enjoy and value this hard work. It’s hard work that is worth my time, energy, and effort. As I tackle and work through the complexities, I realize that not everything worthwhile in life comes easy. There are often twists, turns, and trauma, but if I want it, I’ll have to be brave, determined, and full of faith to work through it.  

The two hours that I spend in class help me realign. They discipline me to show up even when it’s tough or I don’t want to for lame reasons.  There is no replacement for consistency, and it is only through consistency that I see results. This thought shows up in my life in so many ways when I don’t feel like exercising or when I doubt my coaching skills. It’s a reinforcement that if I keep at it, I will make it. Granted, I might have to change my approach or modify it, but giving up is not an option.  

I also recognize that I am nothing without the guidance, patience, and expertise of my teacher. I don’t need to figure out all the techniques on my own; he’s right there to advise me.  As a renowned artist himself, he is someone who deeply loves and respects his craft, which spills over into his teaching style. When I took the long break and hesitantly called him to see if I could return, I was unsure and afraid of what he would say, but I’m so glad I did. He was kind and understanding, and he told me we would pick back up right where we left off. This student-teacher relationship is symbolic of all the mentors, guides, cheerleaders, and supporters in my life. Some are my friends; some are family; some are colleagues; and some are complete strangers. I realize that I don’t need to face every obstacle on my own, but I do need to ask for help, when necessary, and I do need to selectively surround myself with people who build, and not break, my soul.   

Another important lesson that my hobby reiterates time and again is to not compare, because every student is on a different journey. Some have been doing this for years; some are working on their projects to prepare for entrance exams at design schools; and some are novices, like me. Each of us connects on a different level to our art so when the urge to compare comes in, I have to remind myself that we’re not equals. Whether in class or in life, every single person has their own story, successes, challenges and priorities. It’s never a fair comparison, so might as well be inspired or uninterested.  

Ultimately, I wouldn’t be going to class if I wasn’t having fun. Even though the drawings get difficult, and I struggle often, I am still having fun. It’s a choice I make and one I never regret. Similarly, no matter where I end up in life, I always have a choice. It may feel like I don’t, but I do. It’s up to me how I view those choices and what I do with them.  

There is not a single negative that I can think of when it comes to these art classes. Yes, they aren’t free, but sometimes you have to invest before you see a return. That’s a decision that only you can make and a risk only you can gauge. Whether you’re looking to learn something new, pursue a hobby, or simply get out of your comfort zone, this week’s blog is that green signal to do it. You will get more than a sense of completion from it. In fact, you will discover that you’re more capable than you even knew or believed.  

As always, I am here to support you all the way, my brave soul. I hope you keep in touch with your stories, thoughts, and feedback. If you wish to learn more, please stop by www.imperfectbodies.com. Lastly, if you enjoyed this information, then please share it with others.  

My guide to creating your vision available here: https://fierce-originator-1156.ck.page/fb87324085  

All the best,  

Chaitni    

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