Claiming Myself an Artist

Always an amateur

“Every artist was first an amateur.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am a late bloomer in claiming myself an artist. 

I knew I was artistic from my earliest memories, though I never identified as such. When I was a young girl, I’d be in the car while my mom would drive, and I would draw with an imaginary pencil on an imaginary paper the things I’d see as we passed by – buildings, trees, and other cars.  

Of course, I had art classes in school, but I was never actually nurtured to be an artist. 

When I was nine, I discovered I had some talent. I was bored one day, and – I know I’m aging myself here – but a box of Fruity Pebbles cereal was on the kitchen table, and I decided to draw Fred Flintstone, who was pictured on the box. (Yes, I was on a never-ending sugar high during those days.) Turns out I was able to draw the cartoon character well.

By junior high I wanted to become a veterinarian, so I was trying to excel academically. I was now drawing and creating cartoons during my free time and experimenting with sketching. I wanted to achieve my pre-veterinary dreams, but to this day it’s a wonder why my first high school choice was an elite, private art school in New York City. I wanted to get into this school so badly. I slapped together the best portfolio my untrained, amateur self could muster and went for an interview. 

I was rejected. And even though I yearned to become a veterinarian, another yearning was awakened in me: the desire to become an artist.

I worked hard in my public high school to be college-ready. In my spare time, I was still drawing cartoons but never drew or painted anything else. By the way, there is nothing wrong with drawing cartoons. As you can see from my Inktober drawings here, here, here, and here, for example, I enjoy them. I also admire cartoonists. Not an easy craft.

In college, I decided in my first quarter – not semesters back then – that I wanted to become an English professor and writer, not a veterinarian. So my career path was beautifully changed. 

A huge sea change happened when I took a college humanities class, which covered some art history, and I was hooked. I took art history classes just for fun and became addicted to all sorts of art.

A word about a liberal arts education, such as humanities: so many people discuss the necessity of STEM courses, STEM clubs, and STEM activities. While science and other STEM training is exceedingly important, our society ignores the power of a liberal arts education, which teaches us about the world and our place in it. I believe that a liberal arts education is actually just as important than a STEM education because the latter teaches skills, not the insights gleaned from a liberal arts education, such as empathy and being exposed to a plethora of cultures and ideas. 

Now that I’ve unapologetically stated my view, back to my own art history. 

Over the years, I went to galleries, art museums and watched Bob Ross and other artists on television. Then I created amateur oil paintings just to practice. I had no idea what I was doing, but I loved it. My cruel jerk of a husband proceeded to throw out all my paintings. And that’s part of what landed him the title of Ex-Husband. As you know, I eventually met Hans, my first real art teacher. I was an amateur with a lot to learn. 

I might be a more experienced artist now, but I wouldn’t call myself a polished artist. I will always be rough around the edges and have enormous amounts to learn.

In fact, I’m humbled by how much I have to learn when it comes to palette knife painting, which was my project this week.  

An Amateur Once More

I am an amateur with palette knife painting, so I tried to pick an easy subject: two magenta flowers and a purple flower. But I felt completely lost and didn’t know how to begin. I spent an hour connecting with other artists on Threads and leaving comments on their artwork. Then I put magenta and Titanium White on the palette paper and stared at it for a half hour, willing my canvas to paint itself a la Mary Poppins. 

This should be titled “Procrastination.” All palette knives are new, except for an old one I tried to use years ago and gave up on.

Then I pushed my fear aside, and I grabbed a palette knife, confused, and dipped it into the two colors.  I painted the subject using my imagination, not from an existing picture. I watched a YouTube video to figure out how to hold a palette knife, as well as how to add paint to it. Below is the painting I created.

It was highly difficult to create, the kinds of strokes and paint thickness  were unfamiliar to me (I’m used to brushes), and my emotions ran from fear to frustration to joy, back to frustration. 

I created the flowers first and played with the different kinds of strokes I could use – an infinite number it seems. I wanted grass, but the painting evolved in an unexpected way; the grasses I drew reminded me of the grasses that exist in a swamp-filled area, so that became my theme. I added cattails to the right and brackish water at the bottom. Because red and green are complementary colors, I placed red “blooms” in the distance throughout the painting to give it some pop. Throughout the painting, I enjoyed using wavy strokes for interesting effects.

I don’t like this piece and prefer painting with a brush rather than a palette knife. This painting is definitely the work of a beginner. I think I have to go back and add some really light colors to better bring out the contrast between light and dark. I really loved the sense of fluidity and movement and freedom that comes with this style of painting. One can do a plethora of things with palette knives and layers of paint. 

At one point I made a mistake with a purplish-magenta color, so I took a cloth and removed most of that paint in that particular area. Then I redid the space with greenish grassy things. Not all of the underlying purplish-magenta color was removed, but the color looks good underneath the greenish foreground.

I also love cleanup. It’s so easy to wipe the palette knives clean with a cloth, as opposed to spending much time and effort to clean brushes. What a wonderful relief.

What I don’t like about palette knife painting is how much paint I have to use. I’m on a budget, and I had to keep squeezing out oodles of paint onto my palette paper. I realize that if I’m to continue palette knife painting, I will do so on small canvases – to save money and to save patience. I found joy when the painting magically came together, but I also experienced the frustration, pain, and impatience of a novice who is learning. 

And because I work with oils, I think I will be in my grave before it dries, thanks to the application of thick paint.

Small palette knife paintings are therefore the way to go for me for now. And this strategy will carry me far.

Describe your experience(s) as a learner, or amateur. What did you take away from the experience(s)?