Several years ago I participated in a women’s art workshop/healing retreat and I’d never do it again. If I had known what it would be like on the first day of the weekend, I wouldn’t have gone back. We met one another, talked about art and our first experiences with it, had food, and discussed how the next day would go as far as producing art as a group and individually. The first day was great.
The group leader was welcoming and gracious, but became demanding and pushy as the workshop progressed. I began a work that I felt happy with, and she looked at it and told me to keep painting, that it wasn’t finished yet, and I was truly stumped for a while, but decided this was the process of making ‘art’, so I continued on.
I’m not an artist, but this workshop promised to change our conception of art. It was more like an ‘encounter’ group than anything else, and at the time I didn’t have enough sense to simply leave. I also felt that maybe this would be good for me, so I endured it.
When we broke for lunch, I still hadn’t produced anything ‘from deep inside’, and one of the women mentioned that she was drawing her guardian angel, and I decided to do the same, except my theme was more about darkness and light.
I couldn’t bring myself to represent the darkness, so I chose solemnity and joy.
Here’s my final piece:
It feels very juvenile to me, although I worked hard on it. I’ve always wanted to draw and feel jealous of those who can, but my talent lies elsewhere.
© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.