I don’t do wine painting classes. Since I teach in a United Methodist Church, our Wesleyan temperance tradition holds sway: we serve no alcohol. However, out in the world beyond there are classes where everyone drinks wine and paints the same image. They’re out for fellowship purposes more than for art, but these classes serve to get people started in the basic techniques of the media. Students copy the teacher’s model painting, often working along as the teacher instructs the class. This is the “show and tell” style of teaching, which usually results in most students’ works approximating the teacher’s example.

College art education classes often are taught this way, but art classes in art schools are never taught like this. Why you might ask? Because art schools exist to help students find their own voice, for they know copying another’s style only diminishes a student’s true voice. The creative spirit within each of us is unique,
breathed into us by a holy God. Ecclesiastes 12:7 reminds us at our end, “the breath (Spirit) returns to God who gave it.” If art students are copying any art works, their teachers are humble enough to send their students to the masters first, or to life itself.

Art, like golf, is a humbling experience. In both we’re always playing against our handicap: we want to be “Perfect,” but we weren’t given the means to accomplish this goal without God’s grace. We go on to perfection by degrees, with the help of God, if we don’t get lazy and take the shortcuts, as the Adam and Eve, Prodigal Son, and many other great stories tell. As Jesus reminds his followers in Matthew 23:11-12—

“The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Why is it difficult to draw from life? Or for that matter, to really look hard at a painting to copy it? From an early age, most of us are taught it’s impolite to stare. In some cultures, even looking directly into the eyes of another person as you speak is unacceptable behavior. I know my parents taught me to look at them when I was in trouble, even when I wanted to look down in shame. I had to face their anger. While I didn’t enjoy it as a child, it prepared me as a teen for hateful comments from my peers, and as an adult for discrimination in the workplace. I could look people in the eye and call them out. This is likely why our early teenage children roll and flutter their eyes at us when we call them to account. They “look at us” without “looking.” And why we say, “Look me in the eye!”

We also have thoughts running through our heads: our to do lists, our concerns about our friends and loved ones, as well as the woes of the world stage. The more we learn to focus on the present moment in which we find ourselves, the better off we are. I find when I can pay attention to my colors, patterns, and how they come together on the canvas, I forget everything else.

I have some artist friends who always have a glass of wine in the studio, since it helps them relax. I think they just like wine. I’m a coffee lover, but too much caffeine makes my hand jittery, and too much wine would make my hand sloppy. I personally believe in moderation in all things, but then I’m sold on Aristotle’s “golden mean,” or the “Goldilocks zone,” where

“at the right times, about the right things, towards the right people, for the right end, and in the right way, is the intermediate and best condition, and this is proper to virtue.”

We barely avoided the 15th government shutdown since 1981, but we now have a House majority without a Leader due to a few extremist members. These Republican Party members who are “pirates who take no prisoners and make no compromises” might want to catch up on their ancient philosophical reading before chaos ensues. Sometimes life imitates art: if you have MAX, you can watch Michael Cain in “Our Flag Means Death.”

All creativity improves with either time or wine. Both allow you to loosen up and not control what happens but go with the flow of what happens on the canvas, instead of forcing the paint to go where you want it to be. I have canvases which began in one direction and ended up in quite another. I can only say my original idea was rejected by the painting in progress, for I had to “listen to what the painting wanted to become.” As Psalms 104:30 says:

“When you send forth your spirit, they are created;
and you renew the face of the ground.”

In case you’re wondering, the “ground” of a canvas is the white primer, so it’s not a stretch to say, God’s Spirit works through us to renew the face of the “ground.” Some texts translate this as the “earth,” and God’s Spirit also works through us to restore and renew our planet to health after all the damage from industrial pollution and man made climate changes.

Leonardo da Vinci, the Renaissance genius, claimed, “There are three classes of people: Those who see. Those who see when they are shown. Those who do not see.” We can all learn to see. How we learn to see takes time and effort. This is why I always talk about some examples of good art before we begin our work. I know most people haven’t seen the masters, so getting images in mind is important. A little art history lesson never hurt anyone. Then I explain the project and we get to work. Stephen King, the noted author, says this about the creative experience: “Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration, the rest of us just get up and go to work.”

In class we were using the flower arrangement which had been residing in the kitchen fridge for the past several weeks. I don’t know who to thank for it, but we put it back where we found it. Our group was given the key to use patterns and textures in the work.
Tim wants to learn to draw from life better, but he was struggling to get his proportions to scale. I showed him the trade skill of using a pencil or part of his hand to measure part of the object and compare its size to another part.

We give away our secret sauce recipe all the time! Everyone knows how to multiply with a ruler for a scale drawing, but that idea often doesn’t occur to them if they aren’t using it on a flat plane. If they have no real ruler, the idea of using an ordinary object as a measuring device also doesn’t enter our brains. This is normal, but once upon a time, we used our bodies to measure the work in progress: a cubit was the distance from the elbow to the middle fingertip and a hand-width was just that: the width of the four fingers. Over the years these were standardized to 18 inches and 4 inches. Horses are still measured in hands today, but we moderns measure in feet and meters rather than cubits.

Gail lined out some lovely patterns on her canvas and made good progress on her painting. She always gets a good plan and executes it.

Mike was glad to be back after doing renewal work/manual labor. This creative exercise of moving bold colors and strong patterns around his canvas was a welcome respite after all that physical activity. A mental challenge seemed welcome to him.

I had done a pattern piece in the week before, so I enjoyed painting the still life, and may use it as a study for something larger later.

We finished up our works on the second session. Tim reworked the pumpkin drawing from an earlier time and Gail finished up her texture painting of the flowers. Mike dropped in with Van Gogh books before going out on an errand of mercy to rescue a young client. He was impressed with the amount of blue clothing the people wore in Van Gogh’s paintings. I reminded him the very denim jeans we wear first came from Nimes, France. We call these “jeans,” because the weavers in France were trying to imitate the techniques of Genoa, Italy, but failed, and made instead the sturdy fabric that’s blue outside and white inside. Hence, “jeane de Nimes.”

“I did not know that!” He exclaimed.

Art is for wondering, for seeing new things, for opening up our minds to new realities and new possibilities. Whenever we go beyond what we already know, we open a new brain pathway and create new connections between the neurons. This keeps our minds agile and staves off the worst aspect of aging: the pessimistic belief that nothing is new under the sun. If we keep the optimism of a child, for whom everything is the newest and best, we’ll keep a youthful heart and spread joy wherever we go.

Joy and Peace,

Cornelia

The ‘Golden Mean’: Aristotle’s Guide to Living Excellently —Philosophy Break
https://philosophybreak.com/articles/the-golden-mean-aristotle-guide-to-living-excellently/

Weights & Measures
https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/weights-measures

History of Denim & the Origin of Jeans
https://www.hawthornintl.com/history-of-denim