Painting

I have never kept it a secret that I really do enjoy learning new things, and used to watch PBS more than any other channel when I was growing up. Well, I guess you could say I liked most forms of art back then, from drawing to writing to making things in art class. One Saturday, I was at my Pop’s house when Bob Ross was on, and we decided to get the stuff to paint.

I think some even bought me a book or something at some point. Even though I was not good at it, I did truly enjoy it. I loved making my own nature and mountain scenes and imagining I was there. Eventually, I got okay at the whole painting thing. As any kid would do, I wound up painting some paintings for family members.

I was told I was good at it and that I should be an artist and shit. I didn’t like being told that at all. I just enjoyed the process. It was fun for me. I wish sometimes that I had kept up with it on my own terms. Being an artist wasn’t something I wanted to do.

Eventually, word got out, and it was insisted that the middle school art teacher see it. That was the day painting was ruined for me and haven’t picked up a paint brush since then. No one ever understood that I wanted it to be nothing more than a hobby for myself an only myself of thing I like and places I would love to be.

I did not want to paint what other people liked or expected. I didn’t want to paint people. I’m not even a fan of many people.

I believe the teacher had the best intentions, as did the others who gave me advice and criticized my art, but that wasn’t in the least what I was looking for or needing at that point in time. It was honestly my escape from a deep-down depression that I told no one about, and I don’t even know if anyone really recognized it. What really happened with the criticisms and recommendations was that it took away my enjoyment of painting. It was supposed to be my personal escape from depression and the blurry world that I could see, yet I knew I was missing out on so much more. I just wish certain people had listened to me when I insisted I didn’t want anyone else to see my paintings unless I gave them to someone. I never wanted to be an artist. What I really wanted was to be a scientist.

Every once in a while, I think about giving it another shot to see if I can enjoy it again. Now that I am an adult, I recognize that it’s my thing and I should do what I like, not what the social norms say, or what other people think. I will always stick up for kids that have adults tell them they’re doing creative stuff wrong (unless it’s a school project or something like that where there are expectations)