Attempted another painting class yesterday--this one was painting water using acrylics. (The painting is so very much easier than sewing ,when I'm only able to use one hand.) Many of the participants have been in other classes I've taken, so I'm able to relax a little more around them. Over lunch , during the conversation, a couple of other women said that they, too, were just there to learn the techniques. They had no expectation of creating great art or going home with a masterpiece. What a relief! I don't have to compete!
One woman, whose work I've quietly admired in other classes, expressed the same frustration that I've felt. As a painter, she loves working in the abstract, but finds that most technique classes are geared toward realism. My mixed media work is definitely abstract, and I had never even considered realism, until last fall when I started on these classes. She hadn't realized that I was a fibre artist, and was actually interested. ( I've really downplayed my fibre work in these classes, telling no-one unless I had confidence that they would be okay with it. Maybe the coward's way out, but I didn't want to get into that sort of adversarial confrontations that have come up in other artistic settings) So, I've agreed to take a couple of small pieces into the next class for her to see. She may also be interested in the small fibre art group that meets locally, but I'll have to feel her out a bit more before suggesting it.
The class yesterday was 6 hours with a 40 minutes lunch break. I "pooped out" after 5 1/2 hours. I was so glad to see my DH arrive to take me home! Came home and slept for almost 2 hours. Can't really say that I'm at the top of my game yet.
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