As a graphic designer by trade, a writer by heart and a crafter in my ‘spare’ time, I often have people say to me, “You’re so creative; I have no creativity”.
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The first part of that assessment is true — if I’m not exercising creativity, I’m miserable — but the second part is not.
I believe everyone is creative in one way or another, and art itself doesn’t consist only of ‘the arts’.
Someone who can draw technically well might need help to place flowers in an aesthetically pleasing arrangement.
Someone who can paint realistic portraits in oils might need help to learn tattooing.
A welder might not be able to work with wood but sews beautifully with fire.
A garden designer may need help to decorate a cake.
Even within the same artistic discipline, you can’t always cover it all; just because you’re a writer doesn’t mean you can write poetry and children’s story books, crime mysteries and erotic fiction; you may only be able to do one that’s critically acclaimed.
But how do we find out what we like, what we’re good at and what awakens our artistic passion if we don’t try different things?
I’ve attended pottery classes and Turkish lamp-making workshops, cake-decorating courses and macramé sessions.
I’ve watched YouTube tutorials and experimented to teach myself how to craft the things in my head to life.
Hobbies are often quite expensive, with the bulk of the dollars spent on the set-up to get started in the beginning.
So when artisans share their knowledge and provide a space for us to sample their chosen art form, it is the perfect opportunity to dip our toes into different crafts without the outlay of a bunch of materials and equipment we may never again use (I’m looking at you, inside of my craft cupboard).
It’s not even a matter of finding what you’re good at, just what you love.
Creating art itself is therapeutic, even if you deem the end creation unimpressive or laughable.
You’ve heard that saying: the journey is more important than the destination. I feel there’s no better way to describe art.
I have been drawn to painting sessions in various forms over the years, starting with a Cork and Canvas session in Melbourne that doubled as a milestone birthday celebration for a friend a few years ago.
Since then, I’ve joined a hen’s day painting session via Zoom at home when COVID-19 swept through our house, a school holiday session to paint the iconic Bubble O’ Bill at Pinot and Picasso in Shepparton and a couple of the fabulous Tank’s Art and Ale sessions at the Shepparton Brewery with delicious food and drinks on the side.
These all vary in price and have varying inclusions.
Earlier this month, I took part in a Greater Shepparton Activities in the Park outdoor Paint the Sunset session, which was a relaxed affair in the Queen’s Gardens on a warm night where participants could even toss their footwear aside to feel the lush grass through our toes. At the same time, we brushed away if we wanted.
This session was only $5 and included all the supplies needed to create our masterpieces, along with the illuminating and patient guidance of our tutor, a talented local artist named Natasha.
I have accepted that painting doesn’t call me loud enough to throw too much energy into honing my skills, but I love these sessions because they’re relaxed and social and force me to sit still.
Sitting still without a distraction isn’t something I achieve easily, but when I’m painting, I don’t feel restless at all.
It’s now something a friend and I do occasionally at home, too; she comes over, we choose a subject and paint it on our canvases propped on tabletop easels.
This is a great option when you need to supervise your kids at home, if you’re uneasy about criticism of your work from strangers at social sessions, or when you’d like your kids to join in (especially given it can get quite expensive to buy tickets for four — in my case — to a paid session).
I’ve now done enough of these sessions to accumulate ample paintings to dedicate an entire wall in my house to them.
I’ve affectionately named it ‘The wall of inebriated art’.
I know it insinuates I painted them while I was drunk, which is not the case (maybe tipsy for a couple), but it’s more so because most of these sessions include an alcohol side theme (cork, pinot, ale), so you know, it works.
Whether you think you could master painting the subject the sessions challenge you to or not, I reckon everyone should splash some paint on a canvas at least once.
Who knows? You might like it; you might be good at it, and it might even awaken your artistic passion.