For three weeks, I spent each day as a teacher’s assistant with a great group of youth artists in a pre-college class. I started my day at 9am, most days a bit earlier, grabbing lunches for the day’s field trip and finished at 4pm. I would be accompanying a Field drawing and painting class directed by the spectacularly talented Brooklyn Henke. The curriculum mostly involved grasping the mechanics of drawing and painting from life in the field to document objects, plants, animals (mostly birds) and landscapes. Considering my background of recent backpacking excursions in which I pulled out my watercolor set a few times, I felt like a kid when Brooklyn sent me the email asking if “It found me well” and asking if I would be interested in the position. Heck, I was giddy; it certainly found me more than well.
When the class began, I had the notion that I would become inspired to be more involved with my own practice by watching 15-18 year old artists progress rapidly in a class of this sort, as they usually do at this age with the type of instruction they were receiving. I wasn’t wrong, but as a student entering her last year of undergad painting, I entirely underestimated how much I could learn from a pre-college class. From ink drawing in the Urban Ecology Center’s oak savanna in the middle of Milwaukee’s busy city, to painting landscapes from the shelter of a pavilion during a pounding thunderstorm, I began to realize that I may have been learning just as much as the students, if not more.
In one respect, I felt humbled by not only watching Brooklyn form full landscapes and cityscapes in minutes, but by watching how much variety and talent could come from 12 students. We were learning how to work under many different conditions, including being sunburned and hungry. This class was more than about learning the techniques; it was about learning how to make thoughtful decisions even when there is a branch in your face and sticks under your butt.
Through a range of different weather conditions and subjects, I felt more than ready to tackle the next adventure with my sketchbook in hand. I no longer was fearful of putting a pencil to paper and really painting what I was seeing. I knew what I was doing; I just had to do it.
Cheers to the next round of backpacks full of supplies and eager eyes on fantastic landscapes.