Teaching With A Blank Canvas

There is power in a blank canvas that pulls us in. It awakens the soul of the artist living within us. Feelings mix with ideas as we stare at that blank canvas.  Teachings of composition and design aid us through wonderful trips of colors and shapes. We wrap our canvas with dreams and ideas to waken ourselves and others to the world we share.  Armed with the guidance passed down from artist to artist we bring our dreams to a canvas with a clearer message than they had in our heads. Gifted with the knowledge of how light plays, paintings take on a dramatic tone, or whimsical tales come alive to brighten a viewer's day.

We learn a craft of visual poems.  We learn how design guides the viewer's attention, as the composition sets the stage. The light through a wedge of an orange will make our mouth water as we savor the taste.  The right setting for a wedge of orange can change how we see it, raising the interest in the subject.   

A stream takes on more meaning if it is flowing out from the center of a canvas. It holds our attention for a moment, lifting spirits.  Armed with the right tools for painting, a simple landscape can make a viewer be more appreciative of the natural world around them. Like how the wind shapes a tree or how sunflowers follow the sun during the day. Oak trees grow tall and thin in the forest reaching for the sunlight, while, growing alone, they spread out more to get the sun they need. One particular fungus, prized by cooks, only grows on fallen oak trees. Landscapes can tell us more stories than just that trees are green in the summer and red and orange in Autumn.

Artists have it in them to teach, preserve, and awaken ideas in others. 

Kindness Was Mom's Favorite Lesson

Our front porch ran across the entire front of the house. With the tall elm trees in front we were well sheltered from rain storms, one of my joys as a kid. The porch was great to watch the dark clouds roll in from and feel the force of nature. A cool breeze would push the heavy, hot air out and a feeling of lightness embraced us. We could duck down behind the brick work as people raced past our house to beat the rain home. It was a place to play and learn the things not taught in school, like manners and kindness. Mom was our teacher on the porch, her sewing machine was in front of a window that overlooked where we played on the porch . One lesson was the “why” she always had our knives sharpened by the man who passed through the neighborhood calling out little things he could do. Us kids would pet his horse and, when permitted, get his horse some water. Mom said letting him sharpen scissors and knives was giving him pride with earning a few cents.  

There was the crooked man who passed our house who lived somewhere up the street. His whole body shook as he took each step. He nodded his head to mom as he passed and smiled back to her friendly questions. Mom sometimes would have my brother Francis help him with his groceries. Kindness was our lesson there. Kindness was mom's favorite lesson. 

The angry blind man was another lesson - be kind but keep your distance. The blind man had served in the first world war. There was lots to learn about being kind and mom was there to teach us, like don't watch the hobos as they ate the breakfast mom made them. Our house was marked as a place to get a free meal. Dad often erased those marks because he knew not all hobos were good people… Other lessons were why the peonies need ants to open. Ants were fine in the garden but heaven help them if they came in the house. Bees and spiders were good too - even if you got stung or bitten. 

We did a lot of playing on the front porch. Mom chatted with neighbors from across the street on our front walk, the backyard was with next door neighbors, news was exchanged, and sometimes we heard things we weren’t supposed to…  Mom was putting ideas in my head the whole time. Ideas that come out in my art.