I’ve always been awful at art.
Some people say that and they are lying. They complain about how awful they are and then they magic up a masterpiece. To those people I say “stuff you!”
Just because I am awful at art doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate it. I do. I adore art in all its forms: whether it be paintings or photographs, poems or physical art with the body.
I sometimes think that art is such a great expression of how a person can feel which is why I resent the fact that I cannot portray what I feel in an artistic way. I sometimes feel trapped.
Sure I can draw stick people but you can’t really get stick people to show much depth. And I can take a photograph and colour within the lines but when it comes to art I am atrocious. I’m not even going to pretend.
At school I was drawing a bag when my teacher kindly reminded me that the project was to draw a bag and not a shark. We didn’t get on.
I’d like to say that my art was abstract. If it had any flare to it I may be able to get away with that but no. It’s just bad.
Whilst I understand that not everyone can be good at everything it frustrates me that I am not better at art. My dad had considerable graphic skills, my mum took her A Level in art when she was 16 and my cousin is just about to start her art related Master’s degree. Clearly the artistic gene has skipped me.
I’m thinking of getting into photography and I’m saving up for one of those hugely expensive cameras that would make even my pictures look good. But in the meantime I’m just going to drool over everyone’s artwork and one day hope that I will inherit some artistic talent.