Writing Challenge Day 15
In between the lines
Once a mark is made, it is there, it is true. Within it lies a moment in time, an idea, a gesture, a memory. There is no right or wrong, it now exists. Every mark is unique in size, shape, and length—raised, carved, printed, or pressed.
Making a mark captures a feeling examined by touch, translating a feeling and showcasing personality. Each stroke takes possession and defines the act of creation, -James Hyde.
Marks are often lines created by basic movements. There is an infinite variety in the use of lines, implied lines as dotted lines, describing shapes, contours. They hold the power of suggestion, and unify these in the form of a drawing. I should say drawing, not a drawing. Drawing is a verb, an action.
"A line is a dot that went for a walk."
—Paul Klee
Drawing is our first form of communication. A bright crayon captures the lived world of a toddler with honesty. They can sit there, marking away, totally engulfed in the moment, capturing their world in their truth in the most honest way possible. Many details and symbols feature on the piece of paper. Mum or dad will proudly hang it on the fridge, proud of the artwork, the outcome, while the child grabs another piece of paper to make another one. You can throw the drawing away; the result is unimportant for them. It is in the act of drawing—that is what is important.
"When did you become an artist?" I can't remember how many times I have been asked that question. Until seven years ago, I would have told a long story. After visiting my daughter's grade 2 end-of-year showcase, I seriously had to reconsider my answer. The classroom was decorated with a complex web of string, with drawings pegged on. I tried to find my daughter's distinct style of drawing. She ran up to me, "Mum, mine is here, look!" It was the same as the ones beside hers. My heart sank when I looked around me; each drawing was identical. The only difference was their name in the right-hand bottom corner.
She proudly explained how they traced—yes, TRACED—the teacher's drawing and then had to colour it between the lines. In between the lines!!! My heart ached. How could they? There hung the teacher's template and 31 exact, identical drawings! This is not self-expression, this is not art, this is copy-paste SHIT! You just robbed my child's imagination, creativity, problem-solving skills, self-discovery, and prevented them from telling their story. Do you know how difficult it is to re-learn these skills and have the confidence to create without any inhibitions when you are older—something that is innately there?
So, I sat myself down for a little chat. You rebel, you. You refused to conform, you saw through the indoctrination, the prevention of materializing ideas, and stopping me from being me. You have honoured your curiosity and transcribed how you experience the world. You owe it to yourself and for those who can't.
Oh, shit, for those who can't. That makes total sense as to why I take on commission work. It gives me great satisfaction, and the reveal is always my highlight. I do it for those who can't.
My answer to the question, "When did you become an artist?" has become an opportunity to make people consider that an artist is not what they are but who they are. I return the question, "Have you considered when you stopped being an artist? We were all born one! Remember primary school, when you had to sit a certain way, hold your pencil in a certain way, and be told well done for colouring within the lines?"......
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