Messy Painting

Last night, I had the privilege of giving a talk to seven eager Girl Scouts about being a professional artist. The young ladies are working towards a visual arts merit badge.

It has been a long time since my daughter was that age, and I had obviously forgotten how interactive and uninhibited children are. So, when I launched into my brief speech about how I became a "professional" artist, their eyes glazed over with that distinct "boring" look. So I started to ask questions, which led to more questions, and one youngster asked if I would paint for them.

So, I grabbed a blank canvas, laid out some yellows and blues, and started mixing. As I put swatches of the different greens on the canvas, a big-eyed girl asked if they could paint, too. "Sure", I said without thinking that acrylics don't come out of scout uniforms. I nervously told the moms that you gotta crack some eggs to make an omelet, and they relaxed. I gave each scout a small panel, a bit of direction, and just let it happen.

The night was transformed into a self-esteem building workshop - all from some messy globs of paint. I talked about the joy of the process of painting, how there are no bad paintings, just "starts", and that we all have creativity built into us as human beings. Each of us has special gifts, just waiting to be discovered.

We laid all the canvases on a big piece of Kraft paper. I was floored. The colors and imagination were beautiful. As the masterpieces dried, the girls followed me like baby ducks into the utility room, so we could clean the brushes (and ourselves). The apprentices watched me clean the brushes like I was doing magic tricks. It reminded me how much like sponges are children are.

What started as an opportunity for me to give back to the community, ended up being more food for my soul than I could have ever imagined. As I tidied up the studio after they left, I felt like a child myself, eager to make a new "start", and engage in some messy, satisfying painting.