There have been art work of famous artists that always surprise me, but I was surprised by one unexpectedly. It happens to be my painting.
I took painting as a requirement, but I then chose to take it as an elective in my junior year. My first painting that year was of my trip to Palm Springs. It was a difficult scene to convey on my blank canvas that kept staring at me. I knew I had to start somewhere, so I randomly placed color everywhere. I was using my photograph that I took of the scene as a reference, but my teacher told me to paint. I was lost because I was doing just that. He explained that I cannot rely on a photograph to help me. I must use my senses to help me feel what I paint. I stopped and thought for a minute. I tried what he said, and I suddenly let go. It was an amazing experience. I felt as if I was trapped in a tank and was going to suffocate any minute. The minute I closed my eyes and placed my brushed onto the mess I made earlier, I finally began to place myself back in the blistering sun and desiccated air with the swaying palm trees swaying high above. My hands began to do all the work as I was envisioning within my head. Suddenly, I stopped and was awe of what I had created.
I loved looking at the surfaces of my painting, which revealed "the hand of the artist." There were visible brushstrokes and little mounds of dried paint. It was unlike the perfect museum-mounted products under glass that I see of famous artists. The painting came out very realistic that my teacher applauded me for my new found talent. He said I improved over the summer, but I have to trust myself more. I knew he was right because I constantly underestimate myself because I fear the unknown. Whenever I need to make an important decision or do anything crucial, I constantly do what I believe is right. I just close my eyes and go back to standing in sunny Palm Springs. It helps me realize that I should listen to my heart and do what it tells me. Ultimately, that painting holds significance in my life because it has helped shape me to become an open person no longer living behind the closed doors of my mind.
I took painting as a requirement, but I then chose to take it as an elective in my junior year. My first painting that year was of my trip to Palm Springs. It was a difficult scene to convey on my blank canvas that kept staring at me. I knew I had to start somewhere, so I randomly placed color everywhere. I was using my photograph that I took of the scene as a reference, but my teacher told me to paint. I was lost because I was doing just that. He explained that I cannot rely on a photograph to help me. I must use my senses to help me feel what I paint. I stopped and thought for a minute. I tried what he said, and I suddenly let go. It was an amazing experience. I felt as if I was trapped in a tank and was going to suffocate any minute. The minute I closed my eyes and placed my brushed onto the mess I made earlier, I finally began to place myself back in the blistering sun and desiccated air with the swaying palm trees swaying high above. My hands began to do all the work as I was envisioning within my head. Suddenly, I stopped and was awe of what I had created.
I loved looking at the surfaces of my painting, which revealed "the hand of the artist." There were visible brushstrokes and little mounds of dried paint. It was unlike the perfect museum-mounted products under glass that I see of famous artists. The painting came out very realistic that my teacher applauded me for my new found talent. He said I improved over the summer, but I have to trust myself more. I knew he was right because I constantly underestimate myself because I fear the unknown. Whenever I need to make an important decision or do anything crucial, I constantly do what I believe is right. I just close my eyes and go back to standing in sunny Palm Springs. It helps me realize that I should listen to my heart and do what it tells me. Ultimately, that painting holds significance in my life because it has helped shape me to become an open person no longer living behind the closed doors of my mind.