Just Start

As in most tertiary institutions, the quality of lecturer varied. In the third year one 'lecturer/teacher' was different from the others.The others had ideas, passed on knowledge, were keen for us to learn. They generally did the kinds of things you'd expect teachers to do. There were slight exceptions. One actually used our work as material for a book. Another was keen for us to do well. So he'd take home unfinished student paintings. Then work on them to ensure a good result. Fortunately this didn't happen for me. In the third year of my art school course I had a hopeless 'teacher'.He was a well-respected artist. He appeared for his classes and suggested something for us to do. He had few comments about how we did it or what was done. Quite often he had been drinking and wasn't really able to offer much. In addition he often arrived late and sometime left early too. There were even occasions when he didn't arrive at all. My fellow students arrived late, went early, or to the local pub.Or some combination of these, including not even coming.But I was motivated by an artistic career, so I kept turning up.Although I had to spend a lot time driving. I was teaching at Carlingford in north-western Sydney. In evening peak hour traffic to Darlinghurst in the eastern suburbs. Then drive home west to Parramatta each evening. It certainly was tempting not to come too. But I was still motivated by the authoric career, which beckoned. So I kept turning up, still keen to learn. Eventually I was the only student present (it was a small class). With no lecturer to learn from I wasn't prepared to waste my time. But I didn't know what to do. One memorable night, I was the only person there.I had no lecturer to learn from.And no fellow students either I wasn't prepared to waste my time.I had spent an hour and a half just getting there But I didn't know what to do.I had a problem didn't I?The first time this happened I stared at my blank canvas for a while. Then I looked at my paints and noticed a tube of Indian red. I hate Indian red, I thought, so let's use up some of that. If I was going to waste paint it was a colour I didn't like and rarely used.So I mixed the paint with plenty of turps and looked at the canvas again. But even then I wasn't sure what to do with it.So I flicked the paint onto the canvas in random splashes. Splash marks went everywhere.I looked at that for a while and eventually decided to join the dots.I considered the shapes created and thought I should colour some in.So I painted in some of the shapes with more Indian red. Some white was added and more shapes painted.I continued working on the painting, but more quickly. It developed into quite a reasonable abstract painting. Eventually I decided I was finished.I had an abstract painting to be sure.But it was way better than I had imagined at the beginning.Also I learned something.I learned that it doesn't really matter what you do at the start.The most important thing is to actually do something.You don't even need ideas Once you begin, you can alter or change what you have done.It's better to do something and be wrong, than do nothing.Mistakes can be corrected, and you learn what not to do also.I'd solved my problem too In that lesson without a teacher I discovered how to get started.You have now discovered this too - but with words not colours.