CHAPTER 8 #2
“Woah,” is breathed out in the room.
I have to agree. The background images aren’t completed or detailed, but there’s something special with them even being included. It’s a surreal commentary about what is being observed with purpose while also being observed by others.
“How did you get the bowl to show a little color while also appearing clear?” Wilde’s question is filled with awe and I’m curious about the answer as well.
“I was able to achieve this by layering light color over the fruit. It’s soft and requires some blending, but it helps really place the fruit inside of a bowl like this.
” He points to the bowl on the table. “And since I was sitting on the backside of where the bowl is displayed, I had a different perspective than you all did. How does my perspective, which means the view I have of the subject, change my drawing compared to all of yours?”
“You have us in the background,” Katie, one of the older kids in the group, comments.
“That is one major thing about a change in perspective, it can change the background of your piece. When we started class today, I told you to focus on the bowl of fruit only and we talked a lot about shadow and light as I went around, but I included the background because it’s important to see more than just the main subject sometimes. The details are important.”
“Now that we’ve talked a little about how to build this bowl of fruit and how perspective, light, and dark can play together, next week we’ll be working on a treasure box.
It’ll be more detailed in some ways, but the way you use perspective can make or break how an object sits on your paper.
The use of light and dark can really help the subject look three-dimensional instead of flat. ”
One of the kids blurts out, “A treasure box?”
“Will there be actual treasure inside?” Wilde is the one who asks the question and I’m not at all surprised. He’s always been the kind of kid to look for treasure wherever he is.
It could be the perfect rock, or a leaf that’s a pretty color during fall.
A few times he’s found pieces of glass and tried to tell me they were gems. Yes, I did freak out a little each time, but we talked about it and worked through it.
I’m sure he’ll find glass again and think nothing of it, but I tried and it’s all I can do sometimes.
“I don’t know,” Knox teases the kids. “I guess you’ll just have to find out next week.”
The kids groan and Knox chuckles at their reaction. A few grumble under their breath, but no one is over the top disrespectful and Knox’s smile stays in place as he waits for them to calm down.
“Before we wrap up today, does anyone want to show off their drawing?”
All the kids hold up their sketch pads without even a hint of hesitation. They look around and check out each other’s work.
“Katie,” Wilde chirps, “the way you shaded the banana hanging over the edge of the bowl is amazing. It looks like it’s jutting out from the page, and I could reach out and grab it.”
Katie’s little cheeks turn pink and the smile on her face is a mix of shyness and pride. “Thank you,” she whispers.
Knox flashes her a genuine smile. “Wilde is absolutely correct, Katie. It’s one of the things we talked about as I came around. You really used light and shadow to make the banana in the forefront almost leap off the page.”
“I was afraid I added a little too much and it was starting to look fake,” Katie admits softly as if her words are a confession.
“While I don’t think you did, even if you had it wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. Art is all about expression and trial and error. You are all still learning. Sometimes you’ll get things right and sometimes you’ll get things wrong.”
“I got these strawberries all wrong,” Oscar, who is about the same age as Katie, chimes in. “They’re not the right size in comparison to the other fruit and it looks like they’re floating on the wrong side of the bowl.”
The other kids in class giggle, but there’s nothing malicious in the sound. Oscar pouts slightly before crossing his arms and looking anywhere than at his drawing. Knox shoots a look at the kids who stop giggling, but they don’t look afraid which is a huge fucking win.
“Even though I don’t think you meant for your laughter to inflict pain, it’s obvious that you hurt Oscar’s feelings,” Knox points out.
“Oscar,” the boy in question looks in his direction, “your strawberries are a little too big for the space, but that kind of fine tuning comes with practice. Do you know what one of the most powerful things you can do is when it comes to looking at your own work?”
“No,” Oscar shakes his eyes, his attention focused on Knox. His slight tantrum is forgotten. For now.
“Accept criticism and then look at your work with an artist’s eye.
You find the areas where you can improve and then take that knowledge into the next piece.
When it comes to art, practice doesn’t make perfect.
It does make improvements, but there is no such thing as perfect.
Everyone brings themselves into their art, which means everyone will see something a little different in the subject and in the finished piece. And that’s okay.”
Oscar looks down at his sketch pad and then over at the bowl of fruit, his eyes assessing in a new way. “Okay, Knox, that makes sense,” his tone is sage and makes him sound much older than he actually is.
It’s kind of adorable.
“So,” Knox claps and even though the sound is startling, no one flinches, “next week we’re working on a treasure box, and I have some homework for you.”
“Homework?” The kids groan in unison, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
“It’s nothing you need to worry much about. I just want you to think about something you love, a favorite thing of yours. It might be something you already have, but it also might be something you need to find. If you need to find it, then you’ll have two weeks to do so.”
As the kids start to chatter, their excitement is adorable.
They talk about the art they made today, what they think might be in the treasure box next week, and their favorite thing which no one can wait to share.
I take them all in and smile. I’ve seen the power of art when it comes to Wilde.
Now, I’m seeing the same kind of confidence and vulnerability work its magic on the rest of the kids.
Wilde comes bouncing over to me and I smile at him. “Come on, let’s get going.”
“I can’t, Mommy,” his sweet voice turns me down. “Knox asked me to help clean things up and to be his helper.”
“Oh? He did, huh?”
I look up at Knox as he stalks closer to us, not even trying to hide the sly smile on his face. I have a feeling I know exactly why he asked Wilde to be his helper. The man is sneaky. What I don’t understand is why I like it so much.