The Tree that Inspired me to See
I must’ve been about 10 when I first held a paintbrush in my hand, not really knowing what to do with it. I was at an after-school program, and they took a bunch of us out to an open field with canvas sheets and some oil paints. The field had several trees, and we were planted in front of just one and asked to paint it. The instructions were simple, “paint the tree… what you see…. all of what you see.”
Standing there, in front of a tree, 10 times my height and size was intimidating, but not any more intimidating than the brush that I held in my hand, and that blank canvas. How that canvas scared me. It spoke to me daringly, issuing a challenge, “just try”. As I began looking at the tree, I surrendered to the wave of emotions that overcame me and embraced the challenge, focusing on what was ahead of me. Suddenly the tree, which was very much a live, became more vivid. I watched as the light hit it from different angles and saw colors that danced on the leaves in the sunlight. I began seeing shadows and odd colors that I know didn’t exist, yet they showed themselves to me. It wasn’t just a brown trunk and green leaves, it was multiple shades of yellow, orange, red and hues of black and even blue in different parts. Looking with eyes wide open, I transcribed what I saw and didn’t question it. Whatever the outcome, I could always say I just followed instructions and drew what I saw. After all, there wasn’t a score for this.
In what felt like hours I captured the essence of this living, breathing, growing body of nature, and was quite surprised at how deep it was. When the art instructor came around to each of us, he commented to each person individually, noting how far they’d come and what they could do to continue to capture it. Mostly it was words of encouragement. When he came around to me, I recall a really long silence as he took in my work. As he held his chin and moved the canvas in his hand, he said what I didn’t expect to hear- how it truly looked like a tree, and how amazed he was with how much detail and beauty I had captured, the depth, the dimension, and more importantly, the spirit. His words were light but powerful. The smile of encouragement, and the final sentence, “wow, looks like you’re an artist!” really moved me. Up until that moment, I had never thought of myself as talented, let alone an artist!
You see we’re all born artists, we are all born with the power of vision and to create, but something happens along the way that changes our perspective. Remember how we grew up with Crayola crayons and playdough at the kitchen table? No matter what we put down on paper or molded with our little hands, our parents, teachers, and friends expressed awe and admiration. We were applauded and encouraged to do more. It didn’t matter if we colored within the lines, or what colors we chose to use. It didn’t matter if we drew shapes, stick figures of our family members and pets, or just scribbled aimlessly…the wows of support were audible. As we grew up, things changed. We received more “guidance” to do it this way and that way. More judgement. And that changed the perspective. What was pleasureful became burdensome, and too many kids started to believe that they “just can’t draw.” But what would’ve happened if we continued to get the support to keep going, to keep trying, and to nurture this innate talent? What if instead of that’s not how it should look, we got the good start, keep going, it’ll keep getting better admonition in its place?
What if those words that we use are carefully curated to lift and praise instead of to shift and shape others?
I don’t remember the person who conducted this art session, not his name, his face, or his age. But I remember his words and how they made me feel. I remember believing him and feeling my heart beat with excitement. I remember feeling “gifted” and special. I remember how from that moment I began seeing myself as an artist, and with everything I did I injected more of the “artistry” stroke in it. From that moment on I looked at the world with different eyes, eyes that wanted to capture more than what was visible on the surface, eyes that looked at dimensions of what is there visibly and what emanates from it spiritually. That is what that tree did for me…it made me see so differently! But it’s also the brilliance of the person who took me to it, and who supported me with kind, encouraging words….and praise.
We are all artists, in our own way. Some of us express this artistry in things we create- whether visually with images, formations, cuisine, or even fashion. We create art with music, with scent, and with flavor. If failing at first only propelled us to learn and keep going, with more iterations we would believe in ourselves more as the output, the art becomes more refined, well-established, or remains raw. After all it reflects who we are, and we are all so very different….as is every tree.