Me? An Artist?

Me? An Artist? You’ve got to be kidding.  

I have defined myself in many ways over the years, including by what I was not. One of the things at the top of the “not” list?  

I was not an artist.  

Art was for confident people. For the creative, talented, and bold. Art was for those willing to take risks. I was not one of those people.

Or was I?

Fairy Tale Fun

As a young teacher, I created a Fairy Tale Unit for second graders. We read piles of books, produced all sorts of creative writing and artwork, and giggled our way through silly “fractured fairy tale” skits. Then we transformed the classroom into a castle, filled it with parents, and celebrated it all at our very own “Fairy Tale Festival.” 

I knew the hours of preparation had all been worth it when a tough little dude leaned back from the “castle feast” he was enjoying, adjusted his paper crown to a more jaunty angle, and said, “Mrs. LeVake, I thought all this fairy tale stuff was going to be dumb, but it is actually totally awesome.” 

For years, I found great joy in experiences like that. Both as a teacher and then as a mother, I was constantly providing opportunities for the kids in my care to be artists, actors, and writers. To sing and dance and write and draw. I loved helping kids creatively express what they were learning, celebrate the beauty around them, and draw out the beauty within them. 

Still, I was convinced that the arts were not for me. Anything I happened to create as I prepped and planned did not count as “real art.” It was always just “for the kids.” It wasn’t until I was in my 30s that I found the courage to take some giant baby steps (yes, there is such a thing) into the arts for myself.

Blotchy Blossoms = Art 

One day, as my kids finished paintings they were going to give to their grandmothers for Mother’s Day, I was feeling brave. The paints were still out, an extra canvas was sitting on the table, and, most importantly, no one was looking. I picked up a brush and painted a funny looking tree branch with some blotchy blossom-type things plastered all over it. It wasn’t beautiful or amazing by any stretch, but…it was art. And it made me smile.

What are The Arts?

Webster defines art as “a mode of expression that uses skill or imagination in the creation of aesthetic objects, environments, or experiences.”  

Notice that the definition does not specify that an advanced skill level is required for art to be art. Beginning level skill is still skill. And I love that the definition includes environments and experiences as well as objects. Gardening, cooking, decorating the house, arranging an army of stuffed animals on a bed, hosting a party, creating a Fairy Tale Unit? Yes, it’s all art! 

Ultimately, art is about celebrating beauty in the unique ways God made you to see it and express it. Boldness and talent can help, but thankfully, aren’t required.

So it turns out that I was an artist long before I ever picked up a paintbrush. That bulletin board display that matched fairy tale objects with story titles? The glittery chart used to record fairy tale characteristics? The kids giggling backstage in homemade three little pig costumes?

That was all beautiful art,

created by me,

the artist.