Interestingly, I'm on a special path, being guided to learn art—or more specifically—painting. As some of you who read my last blog, I had mentioned how an art friend had suggested that I learn water color painting. Ok. I accepted this with some resistance, but soon gave to the “flow of the universe” and went with it. I started watching painting videos of experienced watercolor teachers. Many.

This week I decided that I wanted to overcome something from childhood. I remember my kindergarten teacher Miss Kriddle and my first grade teacher Ms. Hunter both encouraging me to draw inside the lines. No. I was a rebel. There were specific reasons for this rebellion—I realize now as an adult.

Search engine Bing tells us that one of the definitions of rebellion is “the action or process of resisting authority, control, or convention.” My little left-handed fingers grasped tightly on to that deep red crayon and colored outside of the lines. It felt good to be in control, at least in one area of my life. But, this kind of behavior indicated something deeply remiss. Art is an act of creation, and in most cases is a joyful expression of one's surroundings.

I completed the color theory assignment of making a color grid.

This week I delved deeper even. I wanted to overcome my distorted interpretation of my surroundings. I realized that during a fashion design sketch class, that I didn't have “it” when it came to drawing. There was something deeply wrong with my sketches. My teacher Paul comically pointed this out to me by assigning dialog balloons—and blithe comments—between the “models” on my pages.

Because art is so deeply personal, I now understand how perception is affected by one's psychological and emotional maturity/development. My classmate Krista always doodled really cute figures on her pages when we were in grade school. I still remember the little dogs she drew—bubble shaped and happy. I tried to imitate her drawings, but mine were more moody and disjointed. In 6th grade I decided just to doodle hearts—elaborate like the iron grate of a 1920's-30's art deco gate.

Because English was my weakest subject growing up, partly because of learning challenges and partly because of other personal interference, I decided to “conquer it” by studying English literature at university—which I did with great effort, and completed. Perception and recording what I see as “real” in a way that satisfies me (and is accurate) is my next task. I believe that we are sent to this earth for specific reasons. Mine isn't to become a great artist, but to overcome certain concerns, however deeply embedded they are.

Two days ago I was guided to start painting faces. As my YouTube art teacher suggested, was that I begin with lips, noses, eyes, and so on. So I did. With watercolor. My inner judge prevents me from taking the photo and posting it. Yesterday I opened my email to find an invitation to a “101 Faces” class online. A one week intensive that will cover all genre of art—sketching, acrylic, watercolor—and the styles will be realistic, imaginary, and so on. Yes! So I am being guided. Ever so gratefully, I accept.