My Shadows #2

These sketches and poetry are about forgetting what I learned, and remembering what I forgot. It's easy to (for)get lost, when you've got all pins and no needles.

© Chromeheart

Someone once told me to forget everything I learned in art school.  At the time, I thought he was an imbecile.  Now, I'm not so sure.  A lot of things have changed since then.  I'm beginning to think there might have been something to it.  Might have.  Somewhere in the vein of coulda, woulda, shoulda, &etc.

I want to forget when art making evolved from an expression of myself into an expression of what I thought others wanted from me.  I want to forget how my sketchbook was depersonalized into a graded homework assignment.  Most of all, I want to forget how important it was to be good.  To be as close to the best as you can.

© Chromeheart / Oscura Photography

I stopped enjoying art when I started thinking about good.  If the professor would see how hard I tried to be a good artist, a good student, and give me a favorable mark.  If my classmates would hate my drawing and rip me a new one over too much this or not enough that.  My art wasn't mine any more; it was everyone else's except mine, in the name of good-ness.

What good is "good" if I'm not enjoying myself?
Maybe it's not so important after all.