There are so many ways to tell a story in this world that it seems a shame to simply stick with one. Call me fickle if you like, but sometimes I get the urge to stretch my storytelling abilities into other artistic forms. Once I tried music, but that did not work out so well; once I tried dance, but that was not quite my cup of tea either. That left only one thing - art. This conclusion was actually not hard to get to, since art is a form of storytelling that runs deep in the family gene pool.
I have always loved to draw and paint, ever since I was little, but I never really dove into it until about a year ago. Honestly, it came to me as an escape because my writing was not up-to-snuff in my mind. I was unsatisfied with the stories I had been producing so I sought something else to keep my creative blood flowing. Drawing was the first thing that came to mind.
Often people do not realize that art is a story in itself. Just like writing, no one can paint a picture the way you can. Each person sees something a little different when they look at a tree, or a teapot, or a city scape. It is the job of the artist to capture what they see, maybe even what they do not realize they see, in order to convey the real story to the rest of the world. The saying "A Picture Paints A Thousand Words" is probably one of the most accurate things anyone can say about art. A good artist pours their mind and soul into a drawing or a painting and they tell a story that no one else can. It's honestly amazing and every time I look at a good work of art I marvel at their ability to carry so much emotion on a 24x36 piece of paper or canvas.
So that is where my art comes in. Though I have many years of hard work to go before I come anywhere near the works of Rembrandt or Degas, I found that there is great pleasure in conveying a story through art. My sister Clara also seemed to think so, and that is where my first taste for illustration comes in.
Earlier this year my older sister Clara messaged me from her current home in Germany and said that she was writing a few stories for our mother's birthday. The stories would be based around Mama's hometown of Glückstadt, Germany. Naturally just hearing about the idea of a collection of stories was enough to get me excited, but what made it even better was Clara's request for illustrations. Like all good stories, the tales that Clara had written painted the perfect picture for an artistic mind. Instantly I could see myself with my pencil and paper working out the ideal illustrations to bring the stories to life.
A week before Mama's birthday, I finally sat down to finish the illustrations...And I was stuck.
The worst feeling in the world is to not know where you are going. I thought I would escape my writing rut by creating art, but I simply carried it along with me. Since I was not in Glückstadt, I had to rely on photographs, which is never a good way to start a painting. It also stems the flow of creativity in my mind. Staring at the blank paper in front of me and then looking over to the photos I had chosen put a stopper on my eagerness to proceed. Thankfully my panic of the quickly approaching birthday was enough to kick me into high gear and I conceded to gather counseling from my art instructor (thank you Daddy!). He saw my conundrum and gave me a quick run-down of what I was to do in order to finish those illustrations as best I could.
With a heavy heart, I did as I was told. I had so been looking forward to painting the stories onto paper and now I would have to stick to simply slapping some charcoal and watercolor together. It was a rather depressing outlook, but as I started to paint the pictures I realized that goodness gracious, my father was right! Even though I was using the simplest technique I could still feel the excitement of storytelling and as I added colors and lines I realized that even if I wanted to, I could not possibly paint a picture without conveying a story. It simply does not work.
When I came to the last painting I looked back at the ones I had done. They were not my best works, but the effort and turmoil that had gone into them were really what made them special to me. Do I have drawings I like better? Of course I do. Do I have paintings I like better? Probably all of them! But were the illustrations worth the time, effort, and concentration? Without a doubt. I printed them out with my sister's stories and crafted a little red book out of them. The finished product was more than I had hoped for, and I'm glad to say that both Mama and Clara were greatly pleased.
I suppose what I am trying to say through this rather elaborate tale is that stories never turn out how you expect them to. You have a plan in mind and you start to feel disappointed that it's not working out. You lose motivation, you lose hope that it will be any good, and sometimes you give up. But I can guarantee that if you don't give up, you will end with something far greater than what you had expected. Because your plan is honestly never as good as your spontaneous lapse of judgment. Every great story was written because someone decided to be an idiot and go for it.
Well, that's all I have to say for now. If you ever find yourself in a writing rut, maybe you should consider dabbling in something else that's creative. Trust me, it helps a lot.
Thank you for reading and why not go and look at some art?
- Anna
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