Art Lesson

For the past 2 years, I have wanted to create a certain type of art. The inspiration came from a piece hanging on the wall in the director's office in Lauren's former preschool. It was an enormous abstract splatter painting. Think Jackson Pollock. As I sat in his office one day admiring the work, he casually let me know that one of the preschool classes had made it under the tutelage of Miss Lynne, the resident art teacher. Images of children gleefully hurling paint at a canvas flashed before my eyes and I instantly knew I wanted to participate in something involving that that kind of reckless abandon. The opportunity presented itself two weekends ago when I had a friend visiting from North Carolina who stayed with us for a few days. Her daughter lives in Los Angeles and is good friends with an artist, and they both agreed to make the drive to the OC to assist in the painting endeavor. I really wanted my mom to also participate in the project so it would be a multi-generational bonding experience. The idealistic me envisioned a lazy afternoon filled with laughter and discovery and resulting in a beautiful canvas that I would proudly hang in my office at work on the very blank wall that has been mockingly staring at me for way too long now. David Pratt (the artist) sent me a list of supplies to purchase ahead of time, from the paint to the canvas to the brushes. With the tarps he brought securely in place, the canvas (and little artist) was poised and ready. The first stroke was applied by David, followed by Lauren, and just a few moments later, multiple hands were dipping brushes in a rainbow of colors and slathering the canvas. David was particularly wonderful in guiding Lauren through the process. Simply put, she was having the time of her life. Lauren creating her signature purple flowers with "fireworks": Upon completion, the artists signed the back: The finished piece: Without taking away from how cool the final painting is and as excited as I was to see Lauren reveling in the experience, somewhere along the way my original vision was lost. The concept of creating something with my mother and daughter dissipated about 20 minutes in, when I saw paint strokes that my mom and I had done early on get painted over as the colors and brushes continued to come at the canvas, fast and furious. Less than half way in, my mom and I both stopped painting completely. The only way I can describe what happened is that it felt like it was no longer something being created by or for me. Yes, I took myself out of the picture (figuratively and literally) and resorted to capturing everything with my camera. In hindsight, I now understand that there may have been some miscommunication about the process, but the entire experience felt chaotic, and it seemed as if the others became so engrossed in the project (and they really did seem like they were enjoying it) that they forgot to check in with anyone around them (least of all the person who was commissioning the piece). In fact, my mom and I both disappeared for a good 30 minutes to go inside and talk and nobody seemed to even know we were gone. After all was said and done, I was asked by my friend why I didn't protest about what has happening and let everyone know this is not what I wanted. She told me that I will never get what I want if I don't ask for it. Sounds pretty simple, but if I were placed in that same situation again, I can't say I would have done anything differently. At the outset, I had told everyone that I had wanted to do a splatter painting and liked abstract art. Before beginning, I showed a digital image to the artist and my friend of a painting with linear brush strokes (no recognizable shapes or images) and said that is the kind of abstract art I liked. After that, I do admit to putting the process into the hands of the artist to help guide us given that this was a completely new experience to me. When I began seeing others make images I didn't particularly care for (circles being one of them), I did make a couple of comments, but simply didn't feel comfortable telling everyone to stop what they were doing and listen to me. These were guests in my home, including a professional artist who had forfeited an entire day to spend with us, and who was being amazing with Lauren. It simply wasn't in me under those circumstances to more aggressively criticize what I saw occurring. And the atmosphere amongst the others painting felt nothing short of supercharged with passion as to what they were creating. What I had originally thought was supposed to be a painting for me morphed into a painting that seemed more reflective of the participants. Which is not to say they didn't do a fabulous job. They did. Of course, knowing me, you can bet I wasn't about to completely give up on achieving what I wanted. So later that evening, I made the decision to orchestrate a "do-over" with just me and Lauren. And that's exactly what we did. The next morning, I got a much smaller canvas for us to create our own much simpler masterpiece. We laid down old sheets in our porte cachere (the tarps went home with the artist), mixed up a bunch of new paint (including the silver and gold which were identified by me as my favorite colors the day before but were never used on the huge painting), and, in a nutshell, got messy and had some fun. Way less overwhelming, at a leisurely pace that was comfortable for the two of us, and tinged with just the right amount of silliness and joie de vivre. So what have I taken away from this entire experience? For one, that my mom and I really do think about many things in the same way. We both had the same reaction to this event and in retrospect, that is an enormous relief to me. It made me realize how much I love and appreciate her (and at times, feel fiercely protective of her, as she is of me). So while I didn't get the original painting I was dreaming of, I do feel the bond between my mom and I was solidified. Seeing Lauren's ability to go with the flow both days and soak up every morsel of enjoyment was also immensely gratifying. I may still be searching for a project for the 3 of us to do together; the jury's still out on that one. For now, though, I'll take just spending quality time with my mom and my girl, realizing that creating and keeping our memories locked inside my head and heart is just as, if not more, fulfilling than seeing them represented on a wall. Lesson well learned.