To Draw or Not to Draw

I once spoke with a friend who greatly values drawings, yet she mentioned that she finds it difficult to begin creating them herself. I inquired about the reason. It turned out she feared failure. As I delved deeper, it became clear she was afraid of lacking talent. Perhaps we all harbor such doubts about ourselves when it comes to art. We assume only those with talent can draw.

As a child, I was told I wasn't particularly gifted in art or design, and I believed it. I didn't consider myself suitable for art school. However, I couldn't resist pursuing art as a hobby. Pottery was my first passion. I remember spending a whole year at the wheel, "wrestling" with clay. That's where my arm muscles developed. Meanwhile, I practiced sketching. Then, after graduating from architecture school, I picked up calligraphy again, a strong interest from my childhood. I enjoyed the brush strokes, the lines, the shadows. I knew I wasn't as skilled as the masters, but I wanted to understand their techniques.

I'm still not as skilled as the masters, but I believe I can improve. My dream was to eventually be satisfied with what I paint or draw, which was quite challenging. I was so critical of myself that when someone complimented my artwork at my pottery booth, I felt uncomfortable. I saw many flaws in my work. It was only years later, when I revisited those pieces, that I could be more objective.

When we learn to be an accountant or an engineer, we don't expect to excel immediately. We understand there's a lengthy learning process involving trial and error. However, we set much higher standards for art, perhaps because nearly everyone can draw. If we adopt more realistic expectations, acknowledging that few of us will become another Michelangelo or Picasso, it might become easier for us to pick up a pencil or brush and persevere.

to be an artist.