I grew up in a house with no books, no awareness of art except as something that 'others' did. And yet I loved to draw and paint. I used discarded cardboard and cereal packets, as buying paper for a child to draw on was unthinkable, unthoughtof. At 14 in the top stream of a grammar school i was told i had to give up art as a subject and …
I grew up in a house with no books, no awareness of art except as something that 'others' did. And yet I loved to draw and paint. I used discarded cardboard and cereal packets, as buying paper for a child to draw on was unthinkable, unthoughtof. At 14 in the top stream of a grammar school i was told i had to give up art as a subject and do sciences instead. I was heartbroken. I would never be an artist now. But no one understood so I had to grieve quietly and coped by not picking up a pencil or brush for forty years. Then I did a weekend course in drawing and found it was all still there. I've become pretty good but what is also still there is my family's incomprehension, their refusal to see any worth in it. I got accepted for an MA and they sneered. This time I chose the drawing and gave up the family.
How quietly, insistently devastating those first short paragraphs are. A whole personal and also generational history compressed down. The pressure of it. And then the sorrow of 'for forty years.' Which made my heart soar then at the decision, the decisiveness of your last line. If you have a last name I can add to your profile, just let me know, as well as a link to any of your drawings you have online, as I'd be glad to link to them.
I've now added an editor's note at the foot of your piece with a link through to your compelling sketches. Imagine if you'd never made them (actually I don't want to - only want to share your pleasure in their existing: this creative space you have laid claim to against the odds).
This brought tears to my eyes Stevie and took me back to my childhood. I too loved to create, to sketch and to paint, however it wasn't something that was considered a suitable way to spend one's time. I wanted to go to art college but that wasn't considered a suitable thing to do upon leaving school. Earning one's keep was the only way to go.
So so sad that it took you so long to return to your first love, and then to suffer all over again at the lack of understanding from your family. Isn't it incredible to think that we have to make such choices! Their loss is all I can say and good on you of course!
I grew up in a house with no books, no awareness of art except as something that 'others' did. And yet I loved to draw and paint. I used discarded cardboard and cereal packets, as buying paper for a child to draw on was unthinkable, unthoughtof. At 14 in the top stream of a grammar school i was told i had to give up art as a subject and do sciences instead. I was heartbroken. I would never be an artist now. But no one understood so I had to grieve quietly and coped by not picking up a pencil or brush for forty years. Then I did a weekend course in drawing and found it was all still there. I've become pretty good but what is also still there is my family's incomprehension, their refusal to see any worth in it. I got accepted for an MA and they sneered. This time I chose the drawing and gave up the family.
How quietly, insistently devastating those first short paragraphs are. A whole personal and also generational history compressed down. The pressure of it. And then the sorrow of 'for forty years.' Which made my heart soar then at the decision, the decisiveness of your last line. If you have a last name I can add to your profile, just let me know, as well as a link to any of your drawings you have online, as I'd be glad to link to them.
Here is your link to your words:
https://thecureforsleep.com/april-issue-hands/#stevie
Thank you for this powerful contribution.
Tanya
And thank you for your insightful words. I have stuff on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/stevieclay322/?hl=en
I've now added an editor's note at the foot of your piece with a link through to your compelling sketches. Imagine if you'd never made them (actually I don't want to - only want to share your pleasure in their existing: this creative space you have laid claim to against the odds).
Stevie, in such a few words I feel an understanding of the power of the feelings your family pushed upon you. Enjoy your drawing.
This brought tears to my eyes Stevie and took me back to my childhood. I too loved to create, to sketch and to paint, however it wasn't something that was considered a suitable way to spend one's time. I wanted to go to art college but that wasn't considered a suitable thing to do upon leaving school. Earning one's keep was the only way to go.
So so sad that it took you so long to return to your first love, and then to suffer all over again at the lack of understanding from your family. Isn't it incredible to think that we have to make such choices! Their loss is all I can say and good on you of course!
Thank you for sharing x