Fun experience this morning - for almost everyone there except for me.
I entered the space in a very cheerful and optimistic mood. My happy mood was enhanced by the beautiful, welcoming space. Perfect for painting, the space has lots of natural light, huge windows, painting aprons hung along one wall in a neat row, tables set up with canvases, brushes, water-cups, and easels, and a small bar in the back of the room. Everything was neat, tidy, and clean. Thick black paper covered every inch of table space, though, so it also felt like a comfortable space to make an error or two.
All post-painting clean-up is included in the (very reasonable) price, except for rinsing out your own brushes, which is really easy to do.
I've heard many times that I'm a very self-aware person and that I know myself very well - know who I am, know what I want, and know what I don't want.
I am a creative person who frequently comes up with completely unique creative projects, and I'd thought (going in) that this would be a great experience for me. One of my closest friends, Emily, is a San Antonio-based artist and painter, and she facilitates/teaches similar events. I'd always thought from her photos that events like this looked like so much fun!
However, life is full of lessons and surprises - not all of them pleasant.
The teacher said to use as much paint as we wanted (yay!!), but to be sure to let each layer of paint dry prior to laying on the next layer (sounded like sensible advice).
I felt frustrated when the first layer of my canvas didn't dry long after everyone else was finished with their second layer of their paintings.
I also ended up feeling constrained and irritated by the specific nature of the instructions, not something I'd thought would be an issue.
Every painting ends up looking different from every other painting in the end, and mixing it up (if the mood strikes you to do so) with colors and shapes is actually encouraged, so I'd thought (going in) that there would be enough uniqueness from painting to painting that the lack of individuality/lack of originality inherent in the painting process & instructions wouldn't have bothered me.
I talked to the teacher about my canvas first layer not drying long after everyone else's first layers of their canvases had dried, and she helpfully blotted my canvas with a paper towel to help it dry faster, but by that point I was already way behind everyone else.
When I finally started progressing through my second layer, my painting started to look like total crap. This also bothered me a lot more than I would've thought that it would have. I tried in vain to fix it, but despite several tries, I was unable to get it to look even close to decent.
I kept reminding myself that I wasn't going to try to sell this painting or anything, and that the purpose of the event was to have fun. However, I absolutely loathed my painting. I do actually really like the vast majority of what I produce creatively, so this was a very unusual and negative feeling for me to have.
I liked literally everyone else's paintings, too!! And everyone else seemed to be having fun. I can usually have fun in the middle of a traffic jam, let alone while brushing happy greens and yellows and reds on a canvas, so I am actually really surprised that I didn't enjoy this event.
My husband, who came with me, commented afterwards that my creative process is almost always self-initiated, self-conceived-of, self-completed from start to finish, and free-flowing - which is absolutely true - so perhaps that is part of why this experience wasn't my cup of tea.
By the end, I felt pretty dejected, although I did enjoy looking at everyone else's lovely artwork. I thought my husband did a great job with his painting, and he had fun.
Near the conclusion of the class, we were instructed to sign our artwork. My husband scribbled a classy-looking signature in black paint in the bottom right corner of his painting.
I grabbed my most fine-tipped paintbrush, dipped it in dark-green paint, and wrote at the bottom of my painting in round, highly legible lettering:
"Piece of S**t."
I'd decided to title my painting, instead of signing it!
I'm honestly really trying to swear much less than I used to, and I've made a lot of progress on that, but titling my painting in this way definitely cheered me up to some extent.
If you're nervous about your artistic skills, please check out the photo of my painting below, and rest securely in the knowledge that it is highly unlikely that your painting could possibly end up looking as crappy as mine does!
4 stars because most of my dissatisfaction wasn't their fault, it was my fault for not knowing myself better.
Recommended, unless you're a super type-A personality and/or unless your creative process is similar to mine - but you still could enjoy this experience even if either of these things is true about you! It might still be worth a try! read more