My colleague Tom McGrath recently pointed out that when we are in First Grade we all love to draw and we paint joyously and unselfconsciously. By the time we get to Eighth Grade, however, most of us have become too self-conscious and have given up on the idea that we can draw.
Why is that?
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{ 17 comments… read them below or add one }
Regina 03.08.10 at 8:03 am
The short answer–as early as 13, we are hampering our creative life with worries and overly harsh judgment. At five and six, we know in our hearts that human beings are endlessly, joyously creative beings. By thirteen, we’ve forgotten that. The best teachers try to keep that knowledge alive in young students.
Philomena Ewing 03.08.10 at 9:01 am
A whole smorgasbord of reasons probably.
1. We look around at what others have drawn and we begin to realise that some of us are actually better than us at drawing.
2. Some smart ass laughs at what we have done
3. We start getting marked out of ten or graded A to F for something we previously just did for fun.
That’s life !!
Meredith Gould 03.08.10 at 9:46 am
Ah, smart question and wise answers. Many years ago, I put myself through Cameron & Bryan’s The Artist’s Way : A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity course to discover, uncover, and gently remove all the muck in the way of my drawing and other artistic efforts. I wrote right in the book (!) and occasionally refer to my musings when I’m in danger of getting too trapped in adulthood.
Denise 03.08.10 at 11:12 am
While I understand the real question here is why we too-often lose the childhood sense of unselfconsciousness, I look at the specific question a little differently. I don’t recall how I felt about drawing as a young child, though I do remember always pressing very hard with my crayons. But as grammar school and park district art classes showed me my talent was not drawing, I didn’t do too much of it in my free time. It wasn’t something fun to do, so I turned my efforts elsewhere. Growing up should be about learning where your real talents and passions lie, so that we can pursue those with childhood joy.
Eric 03.08.10 at 12:49 pm
I resonate with Denise. When I was 4 or 5 I liked to color. When I was 11 or 12 I preferred to play basketball or watch the Brooklyn Dodgers or the Hollywood Stars on TV.
Marg 03.08.10 at 1:59 pm
I agree with Eric & Denise. As long as you have something that you can to with joy or something that makes your soul sing, you have not lost that creative zing. Just find your “thing” and do it!
Michelle 03.08.10 at 9:50 pm
As a non-artist in a family of artists, I stopped painting and drawing when it was clear that was not my forte nor my passion!
But I think we all need a source of messy, no-holds barred joy in our lives- the kind that of joy that I remember fingerpainting to have been. It’s when my joys are too tidy, too constrained that my sense of God’s boundless love begins to fray.
For some reason, I only draw on retreat….maybe my art has to be between me and God?! (Maybe only God can truly love what I create with paint and pen?!)
Cathy 03.08.10 at 11:04 pm
I agree with all of the above, and most particularly with Michelle. Having had children myself, and also being involved with babies and toddlers in other ways, I’ve concluded that we should be giving much more serious thought to what Jesus said about “becoming like a little child”. I think you can learn more about God – and our relationship with God – from very young children than from all the theology books ever written! Among other things, I’ve long been struck by the very thing we’re discussing now: how small children can be so unselfconsciously, spontaneously creative, and not only that, they EXPECT the adults around them to like their artwork! I’ve often thought how this reflects our relationship with God, or, perhaps more accurately, God’s relationship with us. We might think we haven’t achieved much in our lives or that we’re not very good at anything, but this is not how God sees it. Just as a proud parent will display their child’s art work on the refrigerator, I feel sure that our efforts are proudly displayed on the heavenly fridge!
Eric 03.09.10 at 12:47 pm
Cathy, Wow!
Paul 03.11.10 at 8:51 am
Regina,
Boy, am I late to this discussion! I totally agree with you about “worries and overly harsh judgement.” What saddens me most is that at 53 I’m still weighed down by the same worries and self-judgement.
Paul
Paul 03.11.10 at 8:53 am
Philomena,
You are undoubtedly correct when you say, “That’s life!” But in the inimitable words of a friend, sometimes life “sucks the big twazooley.” All the factors you mention: self-critique, a bully and grading all deface what should be a joyous experience.
Ah, well. As you say, “That’s life.”
Paul
Paul 03.11.10 at 9:03 am
Meredith,
How wonderfully proactive of you. I hope that I can find the time to do the course as well. I’ll look for it online.
Paul
Paul 03.11.10 at 9:05 am
Denise,
I take your point about needing to learn where our real talents and passions lie, but I’m at a point where I’m embarrassed when I have to draw a circle on a white board because I worry that it won’t be perfectly round.
I am no artist. I know that my talents lie elsewhere, but I would dearly love to be able to unselfconsciously muck in with a paint brush now and then.
Paul
Paul 03.11.10 at 9:06 am
Marg,
You say, “Just find your “thing” and do it!” Perhaps what I’m really complaining about in this post is that I have yet to find my thing. Sadness.
Paul
Paul 03.11.10 at 9:08 am
Michelle,
“I think we all need a source of messy, no-holds barred joy in our lives- the kind that of joy that I remember fingerpainting to have been.” Yes. Yes. YES!
Paul
Marg 03.11.10 at 10:56 am
Paul,
I think you have found it. I see it everyday at People for Others. If your looking for something else, maybe you should drag out those fingerpaints or get back on that snowboard and do some shredding.
Seriously, you are tapping that creativity daily. We get to see the beauty on this end.
M.
Paul 03.12.10 at 8:49 am
Cathy,
“We might think we haven’t achieved much in our lives or that we’re not very good at anything, but this is not how God sees it.” A beautiful and consoling thought. I join Eric in saying, “Wow.”
Paul