Hey, Bright Eyes!

I’ve said before that I’m not a fan of long-term “career goal” types of planning. Time and time again what the Universe comes up with is so much more interesting than my puny little ideas. Here’s an example:

After being hired by PCC’s Community Ed department to teach Art Journaling, I was asked if I wanted to also take on Drawing at the Portland Art Museum. The class was fully enrolled already, but the previous instructor was no longer able to teach it.

My heart leapt at the opportunity.

Then my brain reminded me that I have issues with museums, with their history of theft and appropriation of artifacts, with the enormous power of curators to decide what is “real art” and which items have cultural value, with the influence wealthy patrons wield over what museums collect and exhibit. Stuff like that.

Plus, it had been years since I’d sat down to practice realistic drawing.

So naturally, to the request I replied, “Sure, this sounds fun, and like a good chance to deal with my impostor syndrome. 😬”

We’re six weeks into the course, and beyond fun, it’s been a revelation. It’s like I’m growing new eyes.

While I’m hopeful that the items in the gallery we explored last Wednesday were acquired ethically, I can’t be sure. The rooms are dedicated to and named for The Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde, and house a collection of pieces representing Pacific Northwest tribes and people from other parts of Turtle Island. 🌎

What I can be sure of is that I fell in love with this child-sized embroidered leather jacket during the nearly two hours I spent drawing it. While taking in all the details, my imagination couldn’t help wandering and wondering how it came to be.

🦌 Someone slaughtered a deer and tanned the hide. How long did that take — or was it calf leather?
🧥 Who cut and stitched the pieces together to form the garment? A parent, or maybe the community’s leather crafter?
🧍🏾‍♀️ Was it made for a specific child?
🧵 Did the artisan start when the baby was born in order to have it finished by the time they were 8 or 9 years old and could fit into it??
👫🏽 How many children wore this jacket? Did it stay in one family, or get passed among children of the tribe?
🪡 Did the beautiful details mean it was for special occasions only? The soft “broken in” appearance made it look well loved. Would this much work go into an “everyday” jacket?
🧶 Hey, these flowers look a lot like the ones I doodle! 🤓🙌🏽🖍

In the last 10 minutes before gathering the students together to debrief, I hurriedly scribbled peach-colored pencil in the spots I’d left bare, and rushed to add bold, finished-looking details to the beaded flower areas. I could have easily spent another hour with this drawing, with this jacket. We always feel like we’re running out of time at the end of our three-hour class.

The Case for Slowing Down

Many times during those concentrated hours, as I gasped at the intricacy of yet another embellishment, yet another thoughtful act of creativity and love sewn into this piece of clothing, I realized all I would have missed if I’d been a “regular” visitor to this museum gallery. Most likely I would have spotted the jacket, thought “Oh, wow, cool,” stepped up closer (maybe), read the sign, looked again briefly, and moved on.

In other words, I would have missed seeing it.

We can’t spend two hours soaking in every item we encounter. But each time we do stop, we are rewarded. Anytime we slow down and examine what is in front of us — truly look at it — our curiosity muscles have a chance to work out. ✨💪🏽

Abundant and Free of Charge

Heck, even my humble drawing pencil can inspire awe. (Encasing cylinders of graphite in wood? That’s genius! Not only that, but they come in an array of hardnesses to suit different mark-making purposes! Holy cow!)

And my eraser sparks wonder. (What rubbery item was first found to remove markings? And how did that occur? Was it accidental, or did an early artist hunt around for ways to fix a mangled first attempt?)

Awe and wonder are available anywhere, free for the asking, anytime we choose to pay attention.

And here’s a tip from one of your favorite bloggers: Drawing is an unparalleled way of learning to see. ✏️🤓

With pencils — and an eraser — in hand,
Pam

Note: All drawings above that I didn’t label “a student’s work” are by me. (I drew the eyes during an earlier class session.) Maybe I should mention that all the artwork and photos that appear in all my blog posts and on my website are by me, unless otherwise attributed. Just in case you were wondering.