Much excitement on Saturday when I told the drawing class, all of whom had been rejected from the juried art center show, that we would be mounting our own show—Le Salon des Refusés II, in January. When I asked the honchos if we might mount this show I said that I thought it was important that we celebrate both our successes and our failures. The director of the center dropped by and I thanked her for offering us the space for free. She said she was delighted and that ‘it’s going to be a great party.’ So, there you have it—success in failure.
We had a good class. I’m always amazed at the way people put themselves forward in the class. Some of our members are new to drawing but they put themselves forward with a lot of heart. There is no such thing as a mistake in our class. There’s only exploration.
One of our artists has begun to paint in a new way and has a concept for a series of paintings which is brilliant. Sometimes, as the ‘teacher’, I wonder where people will go with what they’re doing, if anywhere, or whether our Saturday mornings together are really all that matters. They certainly could be. Drawing and putting oneself out on the line every week is a fine, fine thing. It connects us with our courage. Finding the curious, interesting thing in each other’s work is a brilliant thing. We learn compassion and how to appreciate the good. Laughing together, appreciating each other’s journeys—is fun. It doesn’t need to be more—and yet it is. Art catches us and asks things of us. We enter into a dance with it and wonder what we can do, how we can surrender, what we’re able to receive, where we might go. So, when one of us has a breakthrough, it’s a thrill.
I’m away this week—but will be back for next week’s class. Lucky me.
